


Catra of Etheria

by Runeless



Series: Catra of Brightmoon [4]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adoption, Allied soldiers, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Adora Remains with the Horde (She-Ra), Alternate Universe - Catra is She-Ra, Ambush, Bow the Tech Master, Dragons, Elberon is awesome, Entrapta is getting really scary, F/F, F/M, Family, Fire, Flamethrowers, Flutterina is a small one, Flutterina is cool, Flutterina's Backpack, Gen, Glimmer isn't a bad person, Happy Adoption, Her backpack is not, Horde Adora, Lord Adora, Lord Adora's Horde, M/M, Magic-Wielding Glimmer, Mothers and Daughters, Queen Angella is doing her best, Sisters, Sucker is huge, Teen Adoption, The Evil Horde Rises!, The Final Battles Begin, Trolls, cat-ra, it deserves its own tag, loving family, season 4, seriously, that was my favorite episode of old She-Ra, the horde
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 45,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24188830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runeless/pseuds/Runeless
Summary: The battle between the Horde and the Princess Alliance approaches climax, with Adora leading the Horde while Catra wields the Sword against her; but a third side has grown inside both like a cancer, and seeks to use a secret left behind by the First Ones, no matter the cost.And unknown to everyone, an evil greater than any approaches, ready to stretch its hand out over the squabbling forces of the planet and crush them all.(Catra and Adora, She-Ra's true purpose, and the face of evil.)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Entrapta/Hordak, Kyle/Rogelio (She-Ra), Mermista/Sea Hawk (She-Ra)
Series: Catra of Brightmoon [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538323
Comments: 113
Kudos: 269





	1. Princess Catra of Brightmoon

**Author's Note:**

> One day before Season 5, I present to you my work! Gonna add chapters as I finish them.
> 
> LET'S GO

**CATRA OF ETHERIA**

Part I:

Princess Catra of Brightmoon

Hordak is dead- but not at the hands of the Princess Alliance. Hordak is dead because he chose, against all odds and all belief, to save the world. When the great portal opened and threatened to consume all Etheria in distorted dreams, Hordak sacrificed himself to pull out the Sword, sparing Angella the burden- and sparing Catra the burden of watching her surrogate mother die.

Hordak is dead, having saved the world, and warning them of his brother's coming, who will seek to crush their Great Rebellion. Adora now reigns in the Fright Zone... but Hordak, Hordak whom they have fought for over a decade, is dead, and one act of heroism does not a lifetime of tyranny overcome.

So a great celebration is planned in Brightmoon, a revel to be grateful that their great enemy is dead; and how bad can Adora be? Hordak was the true villain; Adora is just the inferior sequel, the lesser enemy, the thing that will take just one last push to topple over.

The party takes three months to get everyone's schedules to line up, but that works out; in that time, the party is advertised, and the Princess Alliance is going to have its greatest celebration and ceremony at Brightmoon, in a great outdoor festival on the very grounds where, once upon a time, Catra fought the entire Horde as She-Ra.

The Great Rebellion has succeeded; Hordak is dead. A sense of imminent triumph reigns; soon they will crush Adora's remnant Horde, and all will be well. The Princess Alliance shall have an Etheria at peace, for the first time in generations, and all look forward to that sacred time.

The vigil has been kept; freedom shall soon reign over all Etheria.

-

There's a celebration going on, and Catra has mixed feelings about it.

Most of the Alliance is having a party. Normally Catra loves parties- it is the greatest failing of her Horde upbringing that they have no parties- but this one is being held to celebrate Hordak's death, and Catra does not feel like she can participate.

It would be different, she thinks, had they fought one last great battle; it would be different, if the last image of Hordak in her mind was some snarling villain. Catra could have been delighted with that kind of victory, she thinks, she could be at peace, and party with the others out before Brightmoon.

But the image she sees of Hordak now, when she thinks of him, is not him performing any of the cruelties he is responsible for; no, she sees Hordak with the Sword in his hands, dying so that the world would live. Her last image of Hordak is not of the man who caused so much harm... but of the man who spared Queen Angella from having to make that terrible choice.

It feels... wrong, to her, to be glad of the death of someone like that.

( Well, technically he was just trapped between dimensions, but it wasn't much different than death, as Bow put it.)

She was Horde once, too, and changed; and somewhere in the back of her skull, she wonders what kind of man Hordak could have been, if things were different. For love of Entrapta, for friendship with Scorpia, he had been willing to die; who knew what transformation that alchemy might have worked on him, in time? Maybe he could have changed, redeemed himself all his many sins, and the Horde's attack be stilled at last.

So she stays in Brightmoon's corridors, and bereft of its usual citizens, the great castle is surprisingly solemn, with only a token handful of guards left inside, the others outside keeping the peace during the celebrations. From outside drifts in the sounds of the party, and the music of the bands Glimmer hired- a rotating list of who's who, using the remains of one of Sea Hawk's many burned and wrecked boats as a stage. Sea Hawk planned to set it on fire at the party's climax; Glimmer had approved, but had also threatened creative bodily harm if he burned it before it was time. Catra had been involved in those conversations, even as she had made her own plans to stay away.

She just... couldn't, not with Hordak's last sacrifice so fresh in her mind. So she is alone, now, walking these long halls, not really _going_ anywhere, so much as moving to scratch the restless itch in her feet and in her skull. She pays no attention to her wanderings, simply drifts through the long halls; were anyone to see her, they might mistake her for a ghost princess, and Catra could fulfill all the horror stories of the Horde at last. Her face is pensive and gloomy; her nature sorrowful, as she muses over Hordak's death.

...She is alone in her thoughts, and not just because no one walks the halls with her. Queen Angella assured her in private that she would make sure everyone knew of his sacrifice, seeing how much that mattered to Catra... but she admitted to the warrior, too, that she was unable to forgive him, and that she planned to participate in the festivities wholeheartedly. Angella had not forgotten Micah, nor forgiven the Horde for his death; that Hordak died saving the world does not change the fact that Angella's world ended when he killed Micah.

Angella is still picking the pieces back up, she is _still_ recovering from that hurt, and so she will celebrate his death alongside her daughter, whom she put in charge of organizing the festivities.

It's the first time Catra has ever seen Angella and Glimmer move in concert before, but she thinks it won't be the last; ever since the Battle for the Portal, the two have grown closer, more in harmony. The last three months have been good for them. They talk often, in private, and they both seem more at ease around each other, if a little cautious. Glimmer confided in Catra that they have deliberately been avoiding deeper topics; they don't feel confident enough to tackle the big issues yet... but Glimmer's hoping to do so after the party.

She's got hope that they can heal, finally, after all this time.

Catra's delighted for that, all her emotions about Hordak aside, she's _stoked_ that Angella and Catra can restore their relationship. It has hurt them so much; she's happy for them, without her melancholy weighing on her, she'd be all for it. Catra had grown aware- more aware, recently, with Shadow Weaver in the castle- that she was a bundle of mommy issues that walked like a woman, and she is glad Glimmer will have her own maternal troubles soothed, glad that Angella can come to an accord with her beloved daughter.

…And that... makes the other things she feels _worse._

To Catra's eternal shame, she feels... a little bit... jealous.

There is some part of her that looks at Glimmer and Angella's family coming back together and wants to be part of it, and that is... that is a _betrayal_ of her friend and her liege both, to feel this way. Angella and Glimmer have been apart for so long, and it hurt Angella so much... Catra shouldn't... she has no place in that family. They grow together, they are healing, and that is _good,_ and Catra's jealous heart has no reason to feel this treasonous poison.

It's stupid of her to do so anyway. It's wrong, to be mad that Glimmer couldn't see the good mother she was given, to be angry that Catra herself is stuck with Shadow Weaver... who is now a guest of Brightmoon, so that Catra cannot get away from her even in her home.

( She still hasn't told anyone the truth, she _can't._ Can't talk of her childhood, not... not here, where she thought she'd gotten _away_ from it. Somehow she feels so ashamed of what happened to her, it feels as it is _all her fault,_ no matter how her mind knows that cannot be true; she cannot stop her heart from feeling envy and she cannot stop her heart from feeling shame. The most orderly Princess cannot order the chaos inside herself.)

It's a good thing that Glimmer and Angella are spending more time together. It doesn't matter that Catra has less time with the Queen these days, and that she feels hurt by it doesn't matter either. Catra... Catraa has no _right_ to be mad that Angella chose her real daughter over... over someone who isn't. At day's end, Glimmer is her real child, and Catra is just... just a former Hordeswoman, if one who has done well in Brightmoon.

Catra was once Catra of the Horde, and now she is Catra of Brightmoon, _She-Ra_ of Brightmoon, and that's enough, it has to be _enough._ It is good that they are getting along better now, though Catra did crack one joke, only a little bitter, that it had taken _the end of the world_ to fix their relationship.

( Glimmer had not heard the bitter, had just laughed at the outrageousness of it all. Catra wasn't sure that she'd wanted her to hear the bitter, and for someone so used to manipulating others, it is a frightening feeling, to not be sure what you _want_ another person to hear.)

Seeing the perfect world has prompted Angella and Glimmer to be better to each other. They were so happy in that world... maybe the memory of it warms them.

Angella remembers, as does Catra, and a few scattered others, though most people do not. Glimmer and Bow both do, as does Madame Razz, who seems to have decided to follow Catra, a strange, mumbling, weird-old-lady shadow that pops up around corners from time to time, and keeps talking about pie.

At least, Catra _thinks_ Madame Razz remembers; it's kind of hard to tell. The old woman tests her nerves, but she also saved Catra's life in the false world of the portal; it had been her attempts to wake her up that first broke Catra free of the spell.

( Catra, fresh from the Horde, would have hated the old woman; Catra, three years into being the Princess of Power, finds she has the patience to handle her most of the time, and the wisdom to leave when she can't.)

Catra wonders what the pattern is, what separates those who remember from those who don't. Entrapta, who remembers, theorizes that the people Catra actually spoke with remember; she thinks it's some side effect of Catra being the Sword's proper owner, a theory that's better than anything Catra's come up with. Entrapta had also mentioned that she wasn't much interested in pursuing the topic; she had another project that was taking up all her time.

That was why she'd sent all these answers to Catra in the form of a letter. Catra hadn't seen Entrapta since their visit to Perfuma's garden; in fact, nobody had, as far as anyone could tell. Even her cooking staff, which had come to Brightmoon to become Catra's personal household, hadn't seen her for a full week, Dryll standing empty until Entrapta suddenly showed up, looking “off”, as the staff had said, and kicked them all out with incredibly generous severance packages.

They'd debated retiring, but had come to a group decision not to do so, enjoying their work too much to stop- and enjoying each other, if Catra wasn't wrong about some of their interactions, which she mostly found cute. They had wanted to stay together, and keep working, keep themselves busy.

So to Brightmoon had they come, looking to get hired, and since Catra didn't have any personal retainers, Glimmer had suggested they sign on with her, becoming her personal kitchen staff. Catra wasn't sure what she felt about that, but it _was_ nice to have someone learn her favorite meals... and at least she didn't have to pay them, Angella was taking care of that.

It hadn't taken long before the cooks figured out what she mostly wanted, though force of habit from working for Entrapta left their food tiny for two weeks. Only the baker was dismayed; Catra had little taste for sugar, and much taste for hot spice, a side effect of her feline heritage. She _could_ taste sugar, but she didn't much care for it.

...Thinking of them, Catra debates going to get food... the trio were helping with the party, but she could still raid the kitchen.

...No, no. No point. She wasn't hungry. The other thoughts crowd back in, her head is stuffed to burst; and so Catra retreats deeper into the castle, going up some stairs, hiding from the party so all her thoughts don't spill out of her too-full skull and ruin the mood for others.

The others had been told that she'd do this. Let them enjoy the day. Bow had protested; she'd waved him off. He's fought the Horde longer than she has, after all; they all have, they've battled the Horde all their lives. Catra is a convert to the cause, not a born believer, and a convert from the Horde itself at that; perhaps it is appropriate, that she is in something like... mourning, for the man who had been her leader once.

...She wonders, as she clambers up the steps, slowly, quietly, if, given time, Hordak might have become like her, atoned for his sins, and embraced a different way. She wonders if she is mourning the man who died- who she can see, and agree, deserved it- or if she is mourning the man he _might_ have been, that he can never be now, the way Catra herself, once upon a time, was not worthy of what she now has, but became so.

Her wandering leads her to lonely areas of the castle, hiding from the shine of joy and the laughter of the living, until, eventually, she finds her feet taking her, almost against her will, to Shadow Weaver's garden.

As part of the perks she'd gained by helping them, Shadow Weaver had been given an old gardening terrace in a mostly disused wing of the castle, a place in which she could grow her preferred plants, though she had complained twice that they wouldn't let her keep the more dangerous- and therefore more useful- herbs in that space. Just a little place for her, one watched closely... though Catra knows, in her heart of hearts, that it is not watched closely _enough_. Shadow Weaver was too dangerous to be given an inch, for fear she would conquer miles.

Still, she'd been overruled. Catra had only been here once, with Angella and the rest of the Best Friends Squad with her, after the Battle of the Portal- as the Alliance was calling it- mostly so Catra would know where it was, and thus avoid it. The terms of Shadow Weaver's... imprisonment, as such, required her to avoid seeking Catra out, which she had agreed to in return for Hordak's destruction, and Catra had never had an urge to violate those terms before.

(She didn't feel that urge _now_ ; she hangs back, down a long hallway before that garden, merely peeking out of the shadows into the light- and how strange that was, to seek safety in darkness from the light. That had never been her way, felt wrong...)

Shadow Weaver was out there, clipping the flowers off of a plant she'd raised, and the unintentional symbolism was so obvious and so sharp that each cut makes Catra jolt, she feels those shears at her own neck. Shadow Weaver had never been kind to any of the things under her control...

Catra couldn't understand it; why Shadow Weaver still here? It wasn't like Brightmoon had kept her out before, it was hard to imagine it could keep her _in_. Now that Hordak was dead... what did she seek here? Why stay?

...Down the hall, a vent is opened, and a person crawls out, nearly causing Catra to leap out of her skin. It is a novel way, to skin a cat with sheer terror; her hand goes to the bracelet she wears, the Sword transformed to make carrying it easier.

Her eyes take in the newcomer, and she stops, staring. They moved on their _hair_ , which jerks strangely at times as if it is breaking loose from her control; a small figure sits inside that great serpentine mass, wearing what looks like the remnants of a pair of overalls, a heavy chain replacing one set of straps on the left side. Half a Horde symbol dangles down one arm, what had once been a red Horde banner repurposed into a sleeve with hasty stapling at top and bottom. The other arm left bare, the sleeve torn off in some lab accident or another; the skin underneath is pasty, and thin, from staying indoors and not eating well. A heavy boot on one foot, the other in an equally heavy, completely different style of boot, the thick purple gloves on both hands uniform but also burned and torn in a dozen places.

Finally, the mask- round, with great bulging eye windows, like an insect's face in caricature, surrounded by all that prehensile hair...

...Entrapta?!?

Too surprised by her ramshackle appearance to say anything, Catra simply stands there as Entrapta slithers away, to speak with Shadow Weaver in low tones. Her hair was no longer in two great tails, just one undifferentiated mass now, she was a great shaggy thing as she engages Shadow Weaver in conversation, her body frazzled and looking like she'd just had a major fight.

What is she up to?

After she speaks with Shadow Weaver, her questions and her answers both given in voices too low for even Catra's ears to make anything out, she takes her leave of the sorceress, returns to the long, dark hallway that Catra is hiding down- and the engineer's eyes, so used to seeing small details, pick Catra out of the dark, right as she is about to slip away into a vent again.

“ Catra,” Entrapta says, and her voice is a croak, dusty with disuse. She doesn't take off her mask, and her hair flares in a halo about it; with the rest of the mass trailing behind her, it makes her resemble a cobra with its hood out. “ You... are not celebrating?”

The great warrior of Brightmoon shakes her head. “ No,” she says to Entrapta. “ I... keep thinking of... well, I used to be Horde too, Entrapta.”

Entrapta nods, then, awkward, stretches out a hand halfway, as though she wants to comfort but can't quite manage to complete the thought. “ I... we both were. I miss him.”

Catra cannot claim that, not precisely; Hordak was not a good man.

But he _might_ have been, he might have _become_ so, and that aches, that is what hurts her, when she thinks of him.

“ He could have been great,” Catra says, and that resonates with Entrapta; she withdraws the hand, clenches it as a fist at her side, and her next words are a sob.

“ Yes,” Entrapta chokes out, hair poofing out hard around her head again... but then she can say no more, and she retreats, her snaketail of hair following her into the vents.

Catra is left alone, with only Shadow Weaver before her; but she is not that desperate for company, not after speaking with the tech princess, and so she slips away too, back down the halls, seeking the comfort of her room, to wait the party out in peace.

( In the garden, Shadow Weaver- who heard and saw everything- chuckles as she clips a calico blossom.)

-

Some hours later, Glimmer sighed, laying back in her chair after a long, successful day. All around her in Brightmoon's great open field were the remnants of the party; tents and stalls and the great long table they ate at, as well as the merry embers of Sea Hawk's ship, still finishing its slow burn.

Servants were moving about, not just Brightmoon castle retainers but independent workers hired to deal with today's great event, all working on cleaning the party up. Glimmer reminded herself to make sure they got a bonus; this couldn't be easy to handle. It seemed like everyone in the Alliance had been in here today.

Which, of course, meant the party was a _smashing_ success. Glimmer couldn't stop grinning; she'd done it. Of course, rather ironically, she hadn't really gotten to enjoy it; she'd been too busy keeping it going smoothly.

Still, who cared? She didn't mind; knowing it had went so well was its own reward. Her mom... she'd be proud.

Wasn't that hard at day's end, either. Really, most of it was just... putting people in the right spots. When Catra spoke of the need for planning and forethought, she was right, for all that Glimmer and the other princesses made fun of their order-loving friend. Chaos had its advantages, but Order sure was safer- and much more of a sure bet.

Yes, Catra was right... she usually was. Mighty Catra, their great warrior, and also their great leader, who was right about... everything.

Usually that led to some grumbling in Glimmer's brain, her own private choir of complaints... but today, even those thoughts couldn't ruin her good mood. No, she felt good, and she could admit that Catra was right without the usual feelings that accompanied it, that feeling of... well, she didn't like thinking about it.

( Unworthiness, she is unworthy, she is unworthy; a thought that has haunted Glimmer since her childhood, since she saw how small her wings were and realized how poorly she measured up compared to her parents.)

So Glimmer, when her mom told her she was to plan today's celebrations, had tried to think like Catra. She hadn't quite managed it, wasn't as good as Catra would be... but she'd discovered that a little bit of planning went a _long_ way.

The big thing was arranging her workers, a thing that had worked out _perfectly._ Frosta as her “personal guard” kept the ice princess out of trouble by having her accompany her- which had even been kind of fun, Frosta was like the little sister she'd never had. Huntara and Tung Lashor for bouncers and general guards had been brilliant; they hadn't even had to throw anyone out, they were just too intimidating for anyone to cross.

Mermista and Perfuma had worked together on decorations, making fountains and delicate floral arrangements that showcased various heroic moments in the struggle against Hordak- including one of Micah, to Glimmer's stunned surprise, a request Angella had made personally. It showed him fighting, and Glimmer's eyes wandered to it during the night, from time to time, this statue that depicted her father acting not like cool and calm Angella but instead acting like, well, _Glimmer_ , striking out with his staff.

She didn't know why her mom had asked... but she was glad she had.

The feast had taken the longest to set up; it had to be perfect. Glimmer wasn't going to make Spinnerella's mistake of serving vegetable platters- no one liked those!

Instead, she'd had a bit of inspiration. This was for the Alliance, right? Well, she'd put together what she was calling a “ Rebel's Feast”; she'd recruited people from every nation's royal staff, making a feast that had elements of every culture in it. Produce from Plumeria, fresh fish from Salineas Glimmer had teleported in personally yesterday (it had taken her all day and multiple recharges, but she'd done it), supplemented with frozen drinks native to the Kingdom of Snows, everything kept at the perfect temperature with a little magic from Mystacor.

( Huntara and Tung Lashor had suggested adding a plate of sand for the Waste, a suggestion they'd both managed to say completely straight-faced, bursting into laughter only when Glimmer glared at them.)

Brightmoon itself supplied most of the dessert, though Entrapta's kitchen staff had made some traditional desserts of Dryll for variety, the harsh, mountainous region producing surprisingly strong sweets. The baker had been excited to work with sugar again, claiming Catra didn't much care for the stuff. Probably explained why Catra had let Glimmer borrow the trio when she'd asked- though Catra had also said she didn't think she'd have much interest in food today.

( Poor Catra; she'd explained her conflicted spirit to them, and while Glimmer didn't really understand, she also didn't like seeing one of her best friends so down.)

Even the minor nations of the Alliance, the smaller citystates and principalities that had no Princess or legacy of magic, had their place at the table; fruits from Alwyn, cakes from Elberon, spiced drinks from Seaworthy, a variety of excellent baked breads from Erelandia... and Glimmer's own personal favorite, a small scattering of food she'd bought from Thaymor, which had been burned to the ground by a Horde attack three years ago, and just this year finally reached sustainability again.

The contribution was minimal... but Glimmer felt it important to remember those who had lost everything, who had regained it with their help, and she had made sure she'd taken a bit of food from their contribution when time had come for her to eat. Thaymor was where they'd found Catra... and it had been Adora who had destroyed it, killed all those people who could not flee. Glimmer wanted to remember them.

As for the entertainment... well, Glimmer had put Bow to work on that. She'd wanted Entrpata to help him, but she'd disappeared into Dryll, had buried herself so deep in the Crypto Castle that no letters could dig her out; so it was up to Bow, and he'd done pretty well, though every single Princess had made suggestions to him at some point. They had an area for physical contests- mostly arm wrestling and other feats of strength- alongside the merchant's area, set aside for independent entrepeneurs to ply their trade.

A riddling contest had surprised Glimmer with how incredibly well it had went; it had been Bow's idea, and the crowd had loved it, the eventual winner being a Seaworthy sailor whose riddle about an egg was short, sweet, and had stumped his final opponent completely, earning him a fine cash prize.

But the greatest attractions were Glimmer's own personal idea; three sets of galleries, one for darts, oen for arrows, and one for thrown knives, all with boards with Hordak's face on them. Simple, effective, and a huge draw; everyone had loved them. Even her mother, after some initial, amused disapproval, had joined in, managing to nail Hordak in the nose with a knife.

Netossa had played all three types, and gotten her Hordak targets in the eyes, every time, to general acclaim. Spinnerella had sought Glimmer out personally to tell her how much she and her wife had enjoyed the celebration. Glimmer had blushed, and stammered a bit; she'd always looked up to the two mighty rebel Princesses, who owned no land and were connected to no Runestone, but who nonetheless used their inborn magic to fight for their people.

They weren't the only ones thrilled, either; everyone had a good time, as far as Glimemr could tell. Even her mom had liked it; she'd given a speech at the start that made a point of Hordak's death, that he had died better than he had lived... but then her mom had surprised Glimmer, by stating bluntly that Hordak had lived poorly, and encouraged everyone to enjoy themselves.

Really, it was a shame Entrapta and Catra were missing it. Shadow Weaver was banned, but the other two had standing invitations... still, Glimmer supposed it would have been weird for Entrapta to come. They were celebrating the death of her old employer and the guy whose side she'd _chosen_ to be on, so her escaping the party wasn't a surprise.

( No one knew Entrapta _had_ arrived... using the party as a cover to talk with Shadow Weaver in private.)

But Catra...

“ Princess, Queen Angella wishes to speak with you,” said a messenger, who had arrived during Glimmer's musings “ She's in her private chambers.”

“ Thanks,” Glimmer said, yawning. “ Be there in a sec.”

She teleported off, arriving outside her mom's room, knocking politely on the door, not noticeable as special amongst the hallway- her mom preferred a modest room, not the much larger, more official Queen's room she had used for centuries, that she and Micah had once shared- that Angella would not sleep in now.

“ Come in!” came her mom's clear voice, and Glimmer popped inside. The place looked as it always had, a small, cozy room of quiet drapery and purple and pink imagery, with a bed, a dresser with mirror, and a small closet of clothes, alongside a single comfy chair for guests. Yes, indeed, the same as it had always been... save that a painting of Micah, once hidden in a closet, had been moved into the room, and hung proudly on the wall.

Seeing him again in the other world- talking to him- had made Angella less afraid of his representation, had not opened her old wound but, strangely, helped to close it; this was not the first piece of Micah that had been returned, dragged out of storage to be displayed once more.

Glimmer looked at it for a second before refocusing on her mom, who was sitting before her dresser, looking herself over in the mirror while adjusting her gloves, having changed into a more casual outfit with the party over.

“ What's up?” daughter asked mother.

“ First, I'd like to compliment you,” Angella said. “ You did marvelously with the celebrations. The Hordak targets were _inspired_.”

“ Thank you!” Glimmer said, grinning.

“ Take a seat, would you?” Angella said, gesturing to the guest chair. Glimmer plopped down on it gratefully; running the party _had_ been exhausting.

“ Thanks,” Glimmer said.

“ You're welcome! Secondly, if you're up for it- and no pressure if you're not!” Angella said, just a _bit_ too brightly, as she turned around to face her daughter. “ Then... well, I suppose we should have that talk we both need to stop putting off. I... rather feel like this is a bit like a bandage, the faster we rip it off the better it'll go. I almost put it off, but I'm in a good mood right now, and so maybe... it will be easier?”

Her mom was as nervous about this as Glimmer was... which made this a bit easier, to know she wasn't the only one panicking a bit.

“ Okay,” Glimmer said. “ How'd you know I wanted to talk after the celebrations?”

“ Motherly intuition,” Angella said- then sighed and laughed at Glimmer's skeptical expression. “ Okay, you... are too much like your father, in that respect. He liked timing things for dramatic effect, too.”

_Your father_ , words she hears on her mother's lips more often these last three months, good words, that tell her of a father she has not had in too long.

“ Alright,” Glimmer said. “ Though... how are we going to start?”

“ I don't know,” Angella said, chewing on her lip and her daughter's words both... this was hard, the things that needed saying were three years too old to be unsaid still...

Glimmer, sitting before her, a little wary. Always defensive around her, Glimmer was, and Angella had to admit it wasn't all on Glimmer's end, either.

_Remember the things you haven't said,_ she forcefully reminded herself. She could have _died_ with all those things unsaid, and knowing that stiffened her coward's spine.

...Maybe start there.

“ So... do you want to know a secret? I... am... a coward,” Angella admitted, out loud, for the third time in her long, eternal existence. First to Micah, explaining her terror of their marriage; then to Catra, flying over the world as it ended. Lastly now to Glimmer, whose eyes widened at the sudden revelation. “ I am a coward, Glimmer. I always have been. Micah was the brave one, not me.”

“ Coward? But you've... fought the Horde longer than anybody...”

Angella's bitter laugh rocked Glimmer more than a dozen speeches; she did not associate _bitterness_ with her mother, at least, not when she talked of subjects other than Glimmer, her unworthy daughter.

“ Fought? In what way? Until they came to Brightmoon's very steps _I_ did not fight. I ordered _others_ to fight... and die. Like Micah. I...”

Angella sighed. “ I am a coward, Glimmer. That's my secret.”

They stood in silence for a minute, Glimmer finally speaking. “ Why are you telling me this?”

“ I was ready to die,” Angella said, closing her eyes, seeing and hearing not Brightmoon at evening's rest around her but the world as it ended, the howl around the Sword and its ethereal glow. “ The Sword had to be pulled out, but it was floating in the air, Glimmer. Catra couldn't reach it- and Entrapta had warned us that whoever pulled it out would be... lost.”

Glimmer put her hand to her mouth. “ But Hordak-”

“ Hordak arrived later,” Angella answered. “ For a little while- it was just me, Glimmer, the task had to be mine. Catra... Catra panicked. Told me not to leave her, like Shadow Weaver always did, she wept at the idea... She stalled me until Hordak showed up. I was... I was going to die, Glimmer, and all I could think about was you, and how much I've screwed up with you. If it wasn't for Catra, I _would_ have died.”

Glimmer lowered her hand, leaned forward in her chair. “ Mom...”

Angella nodded her head. “ So... that's my secret. I am a coward. Glimmer... I want to talk. And I want to _listen._ You have my word that I will hear you out, if you will, in turn, hear me out, and I'll _listen_.”

Glimmer's face turned sad. “ That's an easy thing to say, and a hard thing to do. It's also _not_ the first time you've said it.”

Indeed, this wasn't even close to the first time Angella had _said_ she'd listen... but unlike the times before, Angella did not get mad or yell when Glimmer pointed it out, but simply nodded her head sadly.

“ True,” she agreed.

Glimmer nodded.

“ Okay,” she said.

Angella smiled softly. “ I... must admit I have no idea what to do now. I didn't really plan for what to say, I'm mostly just, err, 'winging it', I think, is the slang? Which is odd to me because I'm fairly certain it didn't originate with winged beings like us-”

“ It's the slang,” Glimmer said with some amusement.

“ Good to know,” Angella said with a smile, fluttering her wings for effect. “ Still... I confess to having no idea for how to talk this out. Do you have any ideas?”

_Dozens._

“ I have one,” Glimmer said aloud. “ I... suppose... let's do it like this. We take turns asking questions. Answer them honestly and in full. One question, one answer, then the other one asks a question. You go first, since it's my idea.”

“ Okay,” Angella said, chewing on her lip and her daughter's words before, finally, asking a relatively small question, one that was little but still poked at the bigger things between them. “ Well, here's a question I should have asked... a long time ago. Why are you a soldier? First Ones know I gave you every opportunity to back away; and like I said, I am, at heart, a coward. You've got Micah's spine, not mine. Why did you join the military?”

Instinct and habit made Glimmer want to get defensive... but she had questions of her own to ask, and... and her mother didn't accuse her, she wasn't throwing this at her like she usually did... she seemed to just be, well, curious.

So Glimmer tamped down on the burst of fury that first accompanied that question, and pondered her answer, talking as she thought about how to answer.

“ I... okay,” Glimmer said, “ Not what I expected... but yeah, you've never _actually_ asked that, have you? Not in so many words.”

“ No,” Angella said. “ And it's three years too late for me to ask that question in the right time... but I hope it's not too late to ask it at all?”

A gentle lilt upward made the last statement a nervous question, and that was new, seeing her perfect, immortal mother worried... different and new enough that it let Glimmer plunge ahead and reveal to her the answer, the truth she'd never told anyone except Bow and Catra before.

“ I love it,” she said. “ I know that's probably disappointing or kind of underwhelming to hear... but that's all there is to it. I love the excitement, the thrill- I don't... I don't deal with routine very well. Catra gets that, and Bow kinda does? He doesn't like combat, necessarily, but he understands the attraction in others. Bow joined the Rebellion because he wants to do something great with his life, because he believes in the cause. I do too, but really that's not why I joined. I could believe in the cause and do something else to support it- I picked battle because it's my passion. I love it. I love fighting, combat, adventure, violence- and I get it, it's dangerous, that's why it makes me feel _alive_.”

She struggled a moment, looking for the right words to say, the words that wouldn't mock her mother but would explain Glimmer's feelings. Her mother struggled too, struggled not to lash out or yell at her daughter for recklessness or do any of the things she usually did, the things that had prevented them from talking about this for three years.

To their credit, both won their struggles. Angella stayed silent, and Glimmer finally found her voice.

“ There's not a word for it, at least not one I know. It's not bloodlust, I'm not Perfuma... I like the rush. I... call me a danger-hunter, I guess? I don't... how'd Bow put it... I don't feel alive unless I can wave at Death.”

Angella nodded, clearly processing that. “ I... cannot pretend I understand that even a _little_. Death scares me.”

“ You?” Glimmer said in surprise, unable to help herself. “ You're immortal!”

“ You'd think that'd help,” Angella said. It was supposed to be a joke, but her low, terrified tone betrayed her. “ Immortal doesn't mean invincible. I can't die of old age, but I am vulnerable to death like anyone else... and it frightens me, Glimmer. I don't _have_ to die, so the idea of doing so scares me... I'm not even sure death will treat me like it treats others. I have no standing invitation from it, there is no place in the clearing at the end of the path for me... I... no, death scares me.”

“ Well, we both know _I'm_ not immortal,” Glimmer said. “ We don't talk about that- so I guess now's as good a time as any. Here's my first question. How long am I going to live?”

Angella sighed. “ I... Actually, I'm not sure you _aren't_ immortal. Nobody's sure, Glimmer. Something like you has never been before. I'll give you the best answer I can. Castaspella did some work when you were born- but you have to understand, Glimmer, I didn't even know I could _get_ pregnant when I had you.”

“ Wait, really?” Glimmer said, and Angella nodded.

“ I'm one of a kind, Glimmer, an elemental being born of the Moonstone's power. Over the years, I'd had, err, carnal relations before...”

“ Well, that's a thought in my head now,” Glimmer deadpanned, and Angella laughed, humor sailing over the awkward moment.

“ My deepest apologies,” Angella said with a smile. “ But... well, despite that, I never got pregnant, so I just assumed I was barren. I'm an elemental thing, Glimmer, not made of mortal flesh... but it turns out that I can quicken like flesh. Me and Micah were together for some time before we had you, and we had no reason to use protection of any kind, though contraceptive spells _do_ exist.”

Angella smirked. “ Micah was apparently exceptional in many ways; he got me pregnant, though that _terrified_ me.”

Glimmer tried not to think of her parents having sex, and with a titanic act of will, barely managed it. “ Why'd it scare you?” she asked instead, though she thought she knew the answer already.

“ Time had never been my enemy before, Glimmer... and now... now it was. I had just reconciled myself to seeing Micah grow old and die, the way everyone I've ever loved does. I... I'm so _old,_ Glimmer. I remember when the Fire Princess reigned in the West, before she set her nation ablaze seeking godhood. I remember things that are whispered myths to others. I...”

She shook her head. “ I'd accepted Micah's eventual death as the price for having the joy of him in my life for a little while... I've made that bargain before, and it was easy to come to. Happiness for a time, then mourning for a time, the way I've always done it. Micah was... I loved him _more_ than the others, he's the only one I ever married, my way of acknowledging how strongly I felt... but then I got sick. Sick in the morning, and somehow I _knew_ , the second it began; I'm a coward, so naturally I leapt to the scariest conclusion possible, and I was right. I was pregnant... pregnant with a baby I'd raise and love and get to watch _die_ , either before its time or _at_ its time. I... didn't deal with it very well, and some part of me has always been afraid that I have treated you poorly because... because maybe then it'll hurt less, when you are old and fading, and I am still here. Alone.”

Angella rubbed her eyes, and Glimmer, her heart breaking, got up and gave her mom a hug, wrapped herself up in her; her mom hugged her back, still sitting, arms around Glimmer's waist as her head nestled into her daughter's neck.

“ I didn't know,” Glimmer said softly, and Angella sighed.

“ It's something else we should have talked about before now,” she said. “ I apologize, Glimmer. We... _really_ have a lot to work out between us.”

Glimmer nodded. “ And... not all of it is from your end,” the punching princess begrudgingly admitted as she let go, and stepped back. “ But back to my question. What am I looking at?”

Angella let go too, a bit reluctantly; it had been a while since they'd hugged, and she found herself missing the contact.

“ Castaspella wasn't sure. If my essence wins out- which she thought it would, given your connection to the Moonstone- then your aging will be greatly slowed down once you hit adulthood. Maybe it'd be only a few centuries, or maybe you'd be as immortal as I am. If Micah's won out... you'd age like he... would have. It's one reason I've always encouraged you to stay topped up on the Moonstone- the more of its magic you have inside you, the more of it you wield, the better the chances you'll live a long time... It's selfish, Glimmer, because you'll outlive all of your friends... but I don't want to lose my daughter, so soon after losing my husband.”

Angella frowned, and for just a moment, Glimmer was aware of how _old_ her mother was, the incredible lengths of time she had existed. It was a fact she didn't think about often... but now, it was hard _not_ to think about it, how many friends Angella had made and lost over the centuries.

...Yeah, she could see how having a maybe immortal daughter... might sound pretty good, from her mom's perspective.

“ I get it,” she said. “ I don't hold that against you, either. Nobody's really in your position but you; what choice do you have?”

Angella nodded, giving her a small, but honest, smile.

“ Well, this is... kind of an overwhelming conversation, and I think I'm going to need a break soon... but there's one last thing to address, while we're on the subject of daughters. The other world, made up of dreams... in it, I had adopted Catra.”

“ I... oh,” Glimmer said, looking away from her mom and trying not to make her thoughts obvious on her face. A bolt of that green, jealous thing in her heart, in her guts (in her eyes)... but also a kind of... genuine happiness? She'd just been thinking about how sad Catra was, how missing the party couldn't have been good for her...

“ Why did I adopt her in that other world?” Angella asked. “ I know a bit about how the other world worked... is that what Catra truly desires?”

... _Yes,_ Glimmer thought, the only answer she could truthfully give. It was a thought that hurt, that made that green thing inside her shine. She has always been

(unworthy)

Of her mother and her father both, a truth her stupid, stunted wings reveal to everyone with eyes to see. Her mother is an Etherian angel, her father the greatest sorceror seen in generations; Glimmer is little more than a glittery brute.

And Catra makes her feel that way, too, not on purpose- Catra is her friend, she would never hurt her on purpose- but Catra... Catra was so _good_ at everything, she was She-Ra and a hero and a legend. Glimmer wasn't sure how comfortable she was, adding another person to her family who she felt so... _inferior_ too.

...But Catra _was_ one of her best friends. Memories, warm and loving, poured through her mind, and they were good, even as tinged with Glimmer's self-doubt as they were. Catra trying to comfort her at the Prom, awkward but wanting to help. Catra saving her in the Fright Zone after Glimmer had thought all hope lost. Catra, complimenting her on dealing with Frosta well. Catra sitting with the other princesses after a successful attack, laughing with her, comrade in arms. Catra hugging her as she wept while Bow reconciled with his fathers.

Catra nearly dying to save her mother... and apparently, saving her again in the false world, stalling her long enough that Hordak could arrive.

And, of course, all the memories of Catra looking at her mother. Catra had never said it in so many words, but it was not hard, to look at a girl who had never had a mother, and see the way, over these last few years, that Catra looked at Angella, ready to do anything she asked, and not... not _know._ Not know what was the most secret thing of Catra's, the happy fantasy she kept inside.

_Maybe we're already sisters,_ Glimmer thought. _I know her deepest secrets, as I'm sure she knows mine._

Some part of her wanted to lie. It was the only victory Glimmer had over Catra; she was Angella's real daughter, and Catra wasn't. Catra wanted it, but what was she supposed to do? This was Glimmer's, Catra couldn't _take_ it from her, she'd have _that_ over her all her life...

...What a _shitty_ fucking way to think.

Glimmer, tired of being second best to everyone in her life- tired of feeling so

(unworthy)

Nonetheless found the strength somewhere inside herself to push the green thing aside, and spoke the truth.

“ She wants you to adopt her,” Glimmer said, looking her mother in the face, as her better nature won out. “ She loves you. And you love her too, I see the way you dote on her; she's a daughter to you in practice, if not on paper. And with all we've been through together, she might as _well_ be my sister.”

Angella nodded. “ I... have noticed how much Catra seems to cling to me,” she said. “ I was surprised to have adopted her in the other world- but not terribly so, if you understand.”

Glimmer nodded. “ You already kinda knew, huh?”

“ Yes,” Angella said, chewing on her lip again- bad habit when nervous. “ Glimmer, do you really think I should do this?”  
  


“ Do you want to?” Glimmer asked. “ Won't be worth anything if you don't want to be her mother. She is damn near grown, it's kind of late to adopt her- but then again, you've had her for three years, and you've been more of a mom to her in that time than Shadow Weaver was in all the time before that. I don't know _what_ Shadow Weaver did to Catra, but you can't call it parenting.”

The memory of Catra, shivering, nervous, between her and Bow, the Sword of Protection a security blanket in her hands- the girl who had fought all the Horde, reduced to a scared child by one witch's presence.

“ I... think I do,” Angella said, sounding a little surprised. “ I have cared for that girl since the moment she brought you back. I didn't expect that, Glimmer, I thought I was going to lose you... but then she came back, after all we did to her, she came back with you in her hands, safe and sound. And all these years since, I've done my best to be good to her, to make up for what we did to her at the start, even as she hasn't held it against us... Yes, I think I would like to adopt her.”

“ Good,” Glimmer said, and when the green thing in her heart tried to rise up, she knocked it back down. Not today. Today... today she was just going to be happy, for Catra, one of her two best friends... and soon to be her sister.

( Inside, she knew she'd be wrestling with that thing all her life, the way she'd wrestled with her feelings of inadequacy- and some days she'd win, some days she'd lose. Today, she wins, and that is enough.)

“ So, how... how do I approach it?” Angella asked, and Glimmer laughed at her nervous look.

“ Let me handle that. You just wait here.”

“ Glimmer!” Angella shouted, wings popping up in surprise as Glimmer teleported out. Her mom would dance around the issue if somebody didn't force it- and, well, Glimmer wanted to be happy for Catra when this happened, and right now seemed like the best time.

Two teleports later, she ended up in Catra's room.

“ Hey Catra!” she said, Catra surprised to see her from her position on the bed, just lying down. She lifted her head, differently colored eyes wide.

“ Hey,” she said, surprise fading as her cool, calm, collected facade restored itself, eyes shrinking. She yawned; apparently she'd drifted off at one point. “ How'd the party go?”

“ No time,” Glimmer said, grabbing her arm. “ Tell you later!”

“ Hey!” Catra squeaked, as Glimmer warped them back to her mother's room. Catra landed on her feet as they arrived, moving from horizontal to standing with grace and speed Glimmer could only dream of.

“ I- my Queen, is this an emergency?” Catra said, suddenly wide awake, tail stiff with fear and ears down. “ I didn't hear any alarms-”

“ It's no emergency,” Angella said, willing herself to be calm with an effort- though her wings remained frazzled, bunched up and ready to take off at a moment's notice. “ I just- Glimmer, I'm not ready!”

“ I think you're good,” Glimmer said, turning to Catra with a mischievous grin on her face. She might lack Angella's beauty and Catra's grace, but right now, she had the advantage of being the only straightforward person in the room. “ Catra, me and my mom talked it over. She wants to adopt you, and I'm all for it.”

“ I- _Glimmer_...” Angella despaired, while Catra gave Glimmer a sharp look.

“ You're... serious.”

“ Yes,” Glimmer said. “ I knew you two would either make a show of it or put it off, so I decided I'd intervene and just get it done. I mean, you're going to be my sister, what else are siblings for, right?”

Catra stared at her a moment, shook her head to clear it- then turned to Angella, her tail lashing just a little, her ears turned and focused on Angella.

“ I... my Queen, is she serious?”

“ Yes, Catra,” Angella said. “ I wanted to do this with more formality- I apologize for Glimmer's antics, and I understand if you want to delay.”

“ Don't you dare,” Glimmer told her mother sternly. “ Don't put this off another minute, either of you, you've spent three years dancing around it already. I mean, you already adopted her in the other world, so this isn't even the first time.”

The mention of the other world caused Catra's ears to droop, and her tail to go stiff again; her face fell, and she gave Angella a long, low bow, staying in that position, looking at the floor and not at Angella.

“ I... Queen Angella, that was born of my own selfish desire,” Catra said. “ You have a real daughter in Glimmer. Don't- don't add me to your family. You two are both coming back together again; you don't need me complicating things. I'm content to serve you.”

“ Catra, don't-” Glimmer started, but Angella raised a hand to her. Seeing Catra like this, hearing her care and concern, made her decision for her; Angella caught the spinning coin of choice, her decision made.

She got up out of her seat, approaching Catra.

“ Catra, you don't bow to me,” she said, putting a hand to Catra's shoulder, lifting her up to look her in the eyes- and there they are, unshed tears in Catra's eyes, the thing her bow had been hiding. “ Daughters shouldn't bow to their mothers.”

“ My Queen-”

“ Hush,” Angella said, squeezing Catra's shoulder. “ I've cared for you _as_ a daughter for years now. Glimmer is bull-headed and direct, but she's entirely correct. I want you to be part of my family, Catra.”

“ I... I suppose it would be nice to have She-Ra as a daughter,” Catra said, even as the tears in her eyes threatened to overspill, trying to make a joke out of the situation, still not able to believe this was happening.

“ I don't care about She-Ra,” Angella said, shaking her head. “ I want _Catra_ to be my daughter. She-Ra is just your job. It's _you_ I want.”

Catra's breath hitched, and then with a sob she started to cry.

“ Come here, my daughter,” Angella said, opening her arms to hug her. Catra pressed into it, hugging her back, burying her face in her shoulder.

“ _Mom,_ ” Catra sobbed, a word that had waited to be said for years.

“ Family hug!” Glimmer yelled cheerfully, even with a few happy tears of her own, and the brutish princess threw her arms around her mother and her sister.

Catra wept in her family's arms.


	2. Glimmer of the Alliance

Glimmer of the Alliance

Catra stares at her, eyes accusing, eyes _angry_.

**Why did you do it?**

Hordak, her leader, whom she has planned to overthrow and kill for so long now... dead, at her hand, but there is no peace. He stares at her, eyes accusing, eyes _angry_.

**Why did you do it?**

She has no answer; at least, none that stands up to their scrutiny. She opens her mouth and speaks and lies fall out of her mouth, little white lies that get up and dance like stars... but darkness pours out of their eyes and murders them, extinguishes each light that falls from her twisted lips.

The one thing no lie can defeat- the truth.

And in that starry darkness, the likes of which Adora has never seen, she sees _them_ \- the shadows of her people, of the First Ones- and they stare at her, eyes accusing, eyes _angry_.

**Why did you do it?**

Adora wakes up screaming and alone.

( In the morning, she heads out on the first transport to the Crimson Waste with her squad, and all notice the bags under her eyes- and the burn scars all down her arm.)

-

Out in the Crimson Waste, as the bad rubbed at her wounds, the good and the ugly were walking, though Tung Lashor would have informed any observers that he was considered _very_ good-looking among his fellow lizardfolk, which was true, though it didn't affect the mammalian opinion of him much.

The Best Friend Squad, alongside Huntara, Perfuma, and Tung Lashor, were back after Mara's ship... but for the first time in forever, Catra could barely focus on the mission. She was quiet, walking behind the others, still in something like a trance.

Queen Angella had adopted her.

...Catra still couldn't believe it was real. She couldn't believe it when Angella ( _mother_ ) told her, she couldn't believe it when Glimmer ( _sister_ ) hugged her, she couldn't believe it when the paperwork was signed.

( Which was when Glimmer discovered she was superior to Catra in at least one department; Catra's handwriting was _atrocious_ , a slow, uneven scrawl that looked as though she'd suffered a concussion and an epileptic fit both while writing. Penmanship was not high on the Horde's priority list.)

Even now, two days later... somehow, inside, Catra didn't truly believe it.

Glimmer had noticed; she had made a point of calling Catra her sister in the earshot of others, her way of trying to reassure Catra this was real, though it had only been two days, so most people didn't know.

Bow had been first to find out, and he'd been glad they had finally done it- _finally_ , because Bow had always expected this would happen, the way that, when he was held captive in the Fright Zone, he'd simply known that Catra would save him. Hell, even _Catra_ had not known she would do that, not until the moment came and she did, in fact, prove to be worthy of the Sword... but Bow had never doubted.

( Perhaps his greatest strength; Bow's faith in others is so strong that it makes the people around him _better_ , for fear of disappointing him.)

Of the others, only Frosta, Sea Hawk and Mermista, who'd been hanging around after the party, knew. Mermista had been delighted at the news, really _understanding_ what it meant to Catra; the water wielder had given her a genuine _smile,_ almost strange to see on her face. Strange, and lovely, too, like the free ocean horizon. Mermista had squeezed her hand, told her that she was so _glad_ for her, and Catra had just awkwardly smiled back, still reeling emotionally, a happy kind of punch-drunk.

Sea Hawk had given her a thumbs up, and offered to write an epic ballad for her, despite the protests of both herself and Mermista, and had even promised to have it done within a week, which was a threat hanging over her head Catra could have done without.

Frosta had taken the news rather... differently.

“ So can you teleport now?” she'd asked.

“ ...No?” Catra offered. Frosta shook her head.

“ Got the shit end of the deal,” the littlest Princess had opined, and walked away, because she was bored of the conversation. Catra had been stunned; Bow's mouth had fallen open at hearing her cuss.

“ You can't cuss, you're a baby!” Glimmer had yelled at the retreating Frosta.

Then they'd heard about Mara's ship getting stolen by the Horde, and everyone effectively remembered that, yes, Hordak was dead, but his army was still hanging around, and the Princess Alliance should probably do something about that.

Hence the mission, which Catra _should_ be focusing on, and not the... the terrible sweetness inside her, that is eclipsing everything else.

_Focus on the mission,_ Catra reminded herself.

It should have been easier, now, under the beautiful, burning sun, the light banishing all her shadows... but the sunlight that banished her darkest fears and all Shadow Weaver's memories cannot banish the gentle moonlight of Angella's regard, which lingered in the back of her mind, evoking a soft kind of wonder Catra had never felt before.

Still, with some effort, she managed to focus herself. Angella- her mother- needed her to get Mara's ship back, and Catra hadn't ever failed her yet... and she _certainly_ wasn't going to fail her on her first mission as her daughter.

( Was this the pressure Glimmer felt on each mission? Normally Catra could just roll with it, but now the pressure seemed overwhelming, suddenly. Being Angella's daughter was terribly sweet... and sweetly terrifying. She couldn't _dare_ fail her. Not now.)

They had a good group for the mission, and a large one. Glimmer and Bow, of course, her best friends (and her _sister),_ alongside Huntara and Tung Lashor, curious to see how their home had developed in their absence and their resident experts on the Waste.

Perfuma was their surprise guest, the plant princess brought along so she could help ferry Mara's ship out of the Waste. Spinnerella would have worked, too, but Perfuma's power was more practical over long distances, and since she and Netossa refused to be separated, it had seemed like overkill to send _six_ soldiers to the Waste.

( One of the bizarre traits of the Rebellion army was that, due to the unusually high individual combat prowess of most of their soldiers, a squad of a dozen was considered quite large; even the non-Princesses among them, like Bow, tended to be worth entire handfuls of normal troops.)

Mermista would have been better, but Catra's wish for her to tag along was shot down when Glimmer made the salient point that there was no _water_ in the desert. Catra had conceded the issue with only mild grumbling, but a lot of hidden irritation; she hadn't had a chance to hang out with Mermista in forever.

...And maybe she wanted somebody to talk to. Her heart was too full, Catra had never expected to have her deepest wish fulfilled and now... now she wasn't sure how to handle it. An irony; she knew how to deal with pain, with loss, with fear, but when confronted with _happiness_ , that terrible sweetness she first tasted in Brightmoon, she didn't know what to do. She wanted to cry when she thought of it, strange, hot, happy tears, and that was just... disconcerting.

... _Focus, Catra!_

-

Mara's ship was a treasure trove. Thank goodness that her gang- and that was still absurd to think about, that somehow she, Adora, had gotten in control of the Crimson Waste- had so many hands, and could pressgang so many _other_ hands, into doing the work.

Here in the Valley of the Lost, the work proceeded apace, Horde soldiers and conscripted locals hauling boxes and boxes of technological goods out, and hauling explosive supplies in.

“ So, uh, Adora,” Lonnie asked, being the bravest of Adora's squad. “ How come... ya know, we're just stealing stuff from this ship instead of just, uhh, taking it? We're putting a lot of bombs in it.”

“ Ship's useless,” Adora opined, rubbing more anti-burn cream down her left arm. Whatever had happened in the false world, it had stayed with her; her arm was a mass of burns. She'd also lost some vision in her left eye, though that was barely noticeable compared to her arm. It still worked... but it _hurt_. “ We can't fly it and don't have any use for the hull. We'll take the technological parts out and then the science team can get working on it.”

The science team being a new thing Adora had come up with. Lonnie wasn't sure why Hordak hadn't done it beforehand; the idea was so simple and obvious that maybe he'd just overlooked it.

( Some part of her wondered if maybe Hordak hadn't wanted anyone _else_ doing scientific research, for fear they'd eclipse him.)

The science team was the Horde's new research department. Adora had grabbed any Horde candidates and soldiers that were good at engineering and made them start studying what was left of Horde's lab, as well as getting them to work making robots and doing all the work Hordak would normally have done himself.

The science team wasn't precisely the pit of innovation and brilliance it had been when Entrapta and Hordak had been there... but it turned out that the work of one or two impossible shining stars of intelligence, while impressive, was not unreplicable by, say, fifty or so average people.

The Horde was badly behind in tech, but the longer the science team worked, the better they got; in three months, they'd made impressive leaps and bounds in understanding Hordak's technology; they'd finally gotten the automated systems that made more Entrapta-style bots working, quite a victory considering none of them could read her notes.

In another three months... who knew?

“ How... how's the arm?” Lonnie asked.

“ It's fine,” Adora said, though her wince when she moved it put the lie to her words immediately.

“ If you say so,” Lonnie said, doubt in her words as, behind her, Kyle nearly tripped and died, Rogelio saving him from a self-inflicted fate at the last minute. “ Where'd you get burned, anyway? Far as I know, there's no such thing as a fire princess.”

“ Portal,” Adora said. “ Side-effect of activating it. Not... not sure why it's only hurt me.”

( Another lie. She remembered falling, remembered letting the light in, remembering **burning** )

“ Well, don't... don't strain yourself, okay? With Hordak dead, we need you now more than ever, Lady Adora,” Lonnie said. Adora laughed.

“ You guys just call me Adora,” she said. “ You're... you're my friends.”

Lonnie smiled at her, and punched her gently in the shoulder- in the good one, because Lonnie wasn't an asshole.

She got up and left, and Adora finished up medicating her arm, slipping back into her suit with ease.

She didn't look at Mara's ship.

( Soon, soon it'd be gone, and she wouldn't think about what she was, she wouldn't have a reminder that the First Ones would _hate_ her for not living up to their legacy. Soon, soon, she could go back to pretending to be... anything else.)

-

One day into the trip, Huntara challenged her.

“ Hey, you getting soft on me, kitty cat?” she asked, in the friendly, spiteful way Huntara asked things of her friends. “ I think you are, all that living in Brightmoon.”

Catra laughed. “ Soft? I'll show you soft. Bet I can make it to the ship first.”

Then she tore off, Huntara laughing as she bounded off after her, Catra's mind on the race and not her own thoughts.

“ You're getting soft, kitty cat!” Huntara yelled as they ran, long legs catching up to her.

“ Soft? Not as much as you, I saw you gorging on Brightmoon cake! Gonna be soft enough I could use you as a pillow!” Catra yelled back.

“ Hah! Sorry, not my type, I like muscular girls, not skinny noodles! Got this bartender down here- wonder if she's still single...”

“ I'm... okay, you got me there,” Catra said, chuckling. “ Skinny noodle outrunning you, though!”

She dropped to all fours, soon pulling ahead.

( She hadn't run like this since... since she was a kid, she'd cut off so much of her natural instincts to act like the others... but now, here under the sun... she felt comfortable in her own skin.)

“ Four legs is cheating!” Huntara yelled with a laugh as she ran into the distance, trying to keep up.

“ I don't understand any of that,” Perfuma said to the others, as the rest of the group shook their heads at the distant figures of the two former-Horde. “ I agree with Huntara about muscular girls, though. Something lovely about strong, feminine biceps. It's a bit shallow, I'm aware, and of course the person is always more important than their looks, but one likes what one likes.”

“ I get that,” Bow said. “ My dad always jokes that Lance wasn't his type at first, because he hates long hair, so the person matters the most... but for what it's worth, I kinda like short girls, but I couldn't begin to pick apart why.”

“ We could also _not_ discuss this,” Glimmer said, and Tung nodded his head vigorously.

“ Sorry, you mammals are super gross to me,” he said. “ I do _not_ want to think about you guys in any context like that. All that flesh and hair is just... super weird. Ya'll look like walking hairy sausages.”

“ Dude, don't be racist,” Glimmer said.

“ It's not racist unless I hold it against you,” Tung argued, as the group finally began to catch up with their literal forerunners. “ I am an enlightened, civilized man, and therefore I do not care how incredibly, disturbingly ugly you are.”

“ I am going to shoot you,” Bow said, then stopped as the group topped the dune, and looked down on a whole lot of... nothing.

“ Uhh, the ship can't turn invisible, can it?” Huntara asked, as she and Catra panted with exertion.

“ No,” Catra said. “ I don't think so... Who would take it?”

“ I don't know,” Huntara said with salt in her voice, “ who _would_ steal an ancient, incredibly valuable First One's ship loaded with tech?”

“ Sarcasm does not become you,” Catra said, turning her gaze on where the ship _should_ be.

Dammit, Catra could not be sent on a mission without _something_ going wrong.

( She hadn't even been able to visit Bow's _dads_ without being attacked by a monster. What the hell?!?)

“ So, we gotta track it,” Huntara said. “ This'll take some doing. Bet I can find it before you, kitty cat.”

“ You're on!” Catra said, pointing at her nose. “ I can sniff out anything.”

“ Or we could follow the very obvious tracks,” Bow suggested as he slid down the hill, cutting short their next competition.

“ Don't be a smartass, Bow,” Catra said, and Glimmer cracked up behind her.

They follow the tracks while Tung asked the obvious question of why “smartass” was even a phrase- “ nobody thinks with their ass, that's not how it works!”- the long skid marks eventually leading them to...

“ The Valley of the Lost!” Huntara said with pride. “ A smuggler's haven. Used to do all kinds of business out here!”

“ Criminal business,” Tung Lashor added helpfully, and the two high-fived.

“ So Mara's ship is down there somewhere?” Glimmer said, ignoring the desert duo. “ We... probably don't want the Horde stealing anymore of it than they already have.”

“ Not sure what they're gonna do with it, though,” Bow said. “ Hordak's gone and so's Entrapta. Who's left to do tech work? Adora's not secretly a scientist, is she?”

“ No,” Catra said. “ She was pretty good at the basic stuff- the general engineering courses we were all taught- but that's just low-level maintenance stuff. Repairing tires, fixing wires, that kind of thing. All the _real_ science was done by Hordak alone... unless he had that creepy imp thing helping. It wasn't until Entrapta showed up that he had any help, as far as I'm aware.”

“ Regardless, let's get the ship _back_ ,” Bow said. “ If Adora is a First One, then that means she might be able to use it regardless of knowing much tech or not... and I don't want the Horde to use it as a new base.”

“ The last thing we need is the Horde to fly overhead and shoot us,” Glimmer agreed, and the group descended into the Valley, putting on some cloaks.

Above them, a figure watched, and blinked their doubled eyelids.

-

“ Hey, Adora,” Catra announced- but even as Adora was turning her hand towards her to cast a spell, she... shifted?

“ Apologies!” the new thing says. “ I wanted to play the starring role, just once, you understand the attraction dahling~.”

“ I... who _are_ you?” Adora asked.

“ Name's Double Trouble,” the shapeshifter said with a smile. “ I am an actor, a thespian, a traveler of the stage! Also a spy. One must make a living and the acting arts fail us so often when it comes to making payment on time...”

“ What talents do you have?” Adora asked, as Double Trouble turned into Rogelio- and began speaking in Kyle's voice.

“ Why, I can do anything you need- for a price.”

Lonnie walked in, saw Rogelio talking like Kyle, and walked back out. Whatever her boss was doing with illusions was _not_ her business.

“ What price?” Adora asked.

“ Knew I liked you!” they replied, all smiles and acting and... well, _lies_. This one was kin of hers....

Adora smiled. They might be useful.

-

The Valley of the Lost reminded Catra _way_ too much of the Fright Zone, which was clearly not what it was supposed to do- Huntara and Tung Lashor, initially chatty, began to grow more and more concerned as they saw what had happened to their home.

The place was crawling with Horde soldiers and Horde bots- which looked _new_ , which was a bit worrying, wasn't Hordak dead and Entrapta in Dryll? Where were they getting _new_ bots from?

Huntara in the lead, they made their way to what she told them was an old friend, a bearded warrior named Grox.

Grox hocked a loog of spit after hearing Huntara out, a spit that almost got Perfuma, who flailed out of the way.

The hair on the back of Catra's neck lifted of its own accord when Grox pulled out a horn, and midway through her speech about Huntara forgetting the one rule, Catra leaped forward and slapped the horn out of the woman's hand.

“ Seriously?” Catra said, frowning. “ Should have just blown the horn. Gonna betray somebody, gotta do it fast.”

The bearded woman tried to attack with her metal claw, but Bow loosed a quick arrow that locked her gears up and stunned her.

“ She tried to spit on you,” Catra said to Perfuma, as the woman tried to fix her arm. “ You want first punch?”

“ Oh, I _shouldn't_ ,” Perfuma said- then reared back with one skinny fist and, with a wild haymaker, laid the traitor out with one blow.

“ Oof!” the petal princess said, shaking her hand to get the sting out. “ Painful!”

“ Impressive,” Huntara said, nodding her head.

The mission proceeded apace after that, the group sneaking in. The Crimson Waste... Catra remembered it well from her first mission, from that strange vision of herself as Princess of this place...

But that was a different Crimson Waste and a different Catra. This Waste, and this Catra, suffered the Horde's attentions...

But not for long, if Catra had any say about it.

In an alley near the canyon holding Mara's ship, Catra and Huntara snuck close; when the time was right, they knocked out a pair of guards.

“ Not so soft, kittycat!” Huntara whispered to her, and Catra grinned. She liked Huntara, the big woman reminded her of Adora... before...

( the portal the light the terrible light)

Catra refocused herself as Glimmer teleported Tung Lashor behind a different squad, the duo laying them out quietly, sharing a quick smile. They'd become fast friends over the desert walk, bonding over a mutual love of fisticuffs and violence, and they sent a thumbs-up to Catra with their job done.

“ Okay, forward,” Catra ordered, and Bow and Perfuma- who was rambling something about how much she hated cacti- went after the last group. Bow took his out quickly; Perfuma... exploded a cactus, which did no good but was _very_ loud.

“ Oh come on, flower girl!” Huntara yelled, as alarms rang over the camp.

-

Oh, this was going to be a _delightful_ experience, Double Trouble could tell that already.

Catra- ferocious Catra, meow!- had stopped and stared when they first saw Double Trouble wearing Adora's skin, stared at the burned arm and the strange milkiness in her left eye. Oh, the _pain_ on her face, the way love and rage and worry all warred with each other... ooh!

Double Trouble's delightfully triumphant decadent thrill when they saw that was almost payment enough for this job.

_Almost._

They fought, and Double Trouble had to admit... watching the She-Ra transformation in person was fan- _tabulous!_ It was a _little_ overblown, but they supposed that if anything justified that outfit, being a superpowered Princess did.

Still, they weren't being paid to win... just to buy time for the bombs to go off.

-

Glimmer teleported inside Mara's ship as the fight raged on outside, mostly to make sure nobody from the Horde was inside. Perfuma and Huntara were beneath the ship, while Bow and Catra were busy fighting Adora- and oh, _First Ones_ , Glimmer was _so sick_ of fighting with her, she had spent three years battling the same person. They could at least switch it up, put Scorpia back on the frontlines or _something._

( She wondered how sick _Catra_ was, of fighting the girl she'd once loved- still loved, if Glimmer didn't miss her guess.)

She glanced around. No Horde... though a lot of boxes with Horde symbols on them.

Idly, she looked inside.

...Oh.

Glimmer was no tech expert, but the blinking and the ticking noises of these devices made their purpose... kind of clear.

Those were... a _lot_ of explosives.

...Oh _shit._

-

As Catra and Adora clashed, Glimmer began teleporting repeatedly, in and out of the ship, towards the canyon's end, throwing... boxes?

“ Bombs!” she yelled. “ Bombs on the ship, I'm clearing them out!”

“ Ooh, ya caught me,” Adora said, then winked at her with that milky, half-melted eye. “ Shame... but maybe I'll still get one of you. The bombs are on a timer, and in just a few seconds-”

Catra turned, away from Adora, who took the opportunity to run away.

“ Glimmer!” Catra yelled. “ _Sister_!”

But she was already gone in a blast of sparkles, back inside the ship.

-

Glimmer grabbed the last box of bombs, laughing. She was almost out of teleports, but she had two left- just two- one to toss this bomb box out and one to teleport away!

Simple enough.

She teleported out. She'd done it, she'd saved the ship!

“ Hey guys!” she said as she popped out, holding up the last box. “ I got the last-”

And then there was only pain and light.

-

“ **Nooo!** ” Catra screamed, as the bomb went off in Glimmer's hands.

Some reflex teleported the princess when the pain hit, but she was bleeding, torn, shrapnel in her- oh no, _Glimmer_ , no-

( A lesson, she had healed once before, it worked on Shadow Weaver)

She put her hand to Glimmer's forehead, ragged with cuts, and she gleamed gold.

-

It was over after that. Double Trouble watched from a distance as the Princess of Power healed the sparkly one, large chunks of metal from the bomb blast pulling themselves out of her forehead, her ruined hands reknitting themselves, and a particularly fascinating chunk of metal was extracted from her neck- _that_ would have been fatal, if DT didn't miss their guess, and given that they'd impersonated a healer for four years once, they were probably right.

Glimmer, hurt, lived, and there was a tearful reunion and blah blah, boring...

But the plant princess used the surge of golden energy to do something _incredible_. DT watched with interest as the flower girl, looking more like the soon-to-be-dead victim of a horror movie, herself became something horrifying- mother nature on a rampage, from desert walls she pulled green life. Great roots that lifted the ship up, up, up, needing She-Ra only to wipe out a few stones, a task she accomplished with energy blasts generated by one-handed sword swings, while holding the sparkling girl in the other arm.

Fascinating. These princesses... every Etherian heard rumors, of course... but this was a _lot_ of power, to see in person.

Hmm. Something to file away for later, perhaps.

DT crawled away, to speak to the woman who was their- current- boss.

-

Huntara couldn't help but be impressed by Perfuma. It was like standing in the presence of a goddess, to be near Perfuma when she was throwing so much power around. The idle thought occurs to Huntara that it was a good thing the floral fighter was so serene. In other hands, it would be horrifying to see; from the desert sand, green life, by Perfuma's will alone.

( Perfuma was the most terrifying of the Princesses, in her own way; some primal part in the back of every animal's brain knew it existed only at the suffering of the plantlife around it, and seeing Perfuma in action scared the hell out of it.)

Apparently she was even stronger because of She-Ra's presence, something the soft archer rambled on about as the group left with the ship. Something about unity, and working together, that made Princesses stronger. Bow had apparently been theorizing about it since they undid the freezing of the forest, an event Huntara knew nothing about but that he spoke of as something impressive; he talked further, something about how the First Ones had designed the system to be balanced out, greater than the sum of its parts.

Interesting stuff for others, Huntara supposed; meaningless to her. The mood is somber as the group returns, Glimmer not able to walk unassisted, Catra carrying her in her arms.

Huntara hated to add onto their burdens, but seeing the Horde treating her home like this... well.

She'd promised herself she'd stop running, back at Mara's ship the first time, when Tung had freed her. She didn't like breaking promises.

“ Catra... I'm staying.”

Catra turned to her, Glimmer in her arms. “ I- what?”

“ This is my home,” Huntara said. “ I know I joked about being the Princess of the Crimson Waste... but now, now I think maybe somebody _should_ be. I think I've gone soft- not in Brightmoon, but long before, I think I've been soft in my spine for far too long. I'm not running anymore. I'm going to kick the Horde out of the Waste, out of my home... and maybe I'll shape this place up a bit while I'm at it. Being betrayed by my goons, and then by Grox... we might be thieves and scoundrels, but there should be a code. You can have honor among thieves, and I'll punch anybody who disagrees with me.”

Tung chuckled. “ My thoughts exactly. Brightmoon... Brightmoon's got the right idea about some stuff. Not everything... but it's got gentleness and strength both. I want to live that way... teach others to live that way. 'll stay too. Every Princess needs a general.”

Huntara smirked. “ You sure you're okay taking orders from me? We were rivals, literally three months ago.”

Tung laughed. “ Been a long three months, I think I'm good.”

“ Well, if- if you're gonna be a princess,” Glimmer wavered, speaking up from Catra's arms, “ you got standards to uphold. Do your best, Huntara... and Tung? Watch over her for me. I'll be grading you harshly when you're done~”

She coughed, spat up a clot of blood from her throat; She-Ra's healing had pulled the shrapnel out, but some interior hurts still remained. Catra's ears flattened at the sound, her eyes following the spat of dark crimson as it slapped wetly on the burning sands.

The lizardman saluted with his whip. “ You got it, spunky.”

“ Good luck,” Bow said. “ And whatever happens, don't hesitate to call on us. We'll be there when we can!”

“ I am honored to acknowledge this fine desert rose as a fellow Princess!” Perfuma said with glee.

“ Yeah,” Catra said, subdued. “ I... be careful. And thanks for everything, you two.”

They nod and leave, and so too do the Best Friend Squad and Perfuma, heading home to Brightmoon.

-

That night, after a debriefing, Glimmer woke in her hospital bed to the feeling of something... shifting at her toes.

Groggily, she leaned her head up. In the soft glow of the moons in the dark, she saw only a large, lumpy furred thing, a silhouette she knew from long experience.

“...Catra?”

“ Hey,” said her sister, clumped at the foot of the bed. “ I... I was worried about you.”

Glimmer looked around herself- this was a private ward room, was in fact the original private ward Catra had stayed in, after she got so hurt in the Battle of Brightmoon. A gentle breeze blew in through a window Glimmer _knew_ had been shut when she went to sleep.

“ Wait... did you climb in the window?”

“ Didn't want to bother the guards,” Catra whispered back. “ I... I didn't want anyone to think I was bothering you.”

“ You're not,” Glimmer said. “ How you feeling?”

“ Better than you,” Catra said. “ I didn't blow up.”

Glimmer chuffed a laugh, and immediately regretted it. “ My everything hurts,” she moaned.

Catra snuggled closer to her feet. “ Sleep. I'm watching over you.”

And that _was_ comforting to know...

“ Thank you,” Glimmer said, and fell asleep with her sister at her feet, curled up.

( Angella would find them like that in the morning, Catra having fallen asleep during her self-appointed vigil, and the Queen would let her daughters rest.)

-

Adora looked over the robot before her, welding mask in place, carefully etching a glyph in its side with a small, handheld blowtorch. All around her were similar bots, most of which had glyphs carved on them already; Adora had been through what looked like four or five blowtorches already, working on this dozen or so robots in this Fright Zone warehouse.

“ Want news on how it went?” said another Adora, standing nearby, wearing only a pair of shades for protection from the glare. That Adora looked at the bots the other Adora had worked on, saying nothing, but privately pondering if the Horde's new leader had even _slept_ since she got back from the Crimson Waste. Judging by her work output, she hadn't...

“ Yes, but please, be yourself,” Adora replied, carefully putting a dot on the First One's sigil she was drawing. “ I do love hearing myself talk, but if I didn't put a limit on it I'd drown in narcissism.”

The other Adora laughed and shifted form, Double Trouble taking her place with their usual flair, even managing to keep the shades affixed.

“ Ah, well, fun's fun and all- they got away with the ship, obviously.”

“ We stole most of what was in it,” Adora said with a shrug. “ The ship's just a hull. Only things we hadn't removed were the fuel crystals and food reserves- I was just going to leave those. The crystals were nearly melted into the engine room- not a lot of juice left- and the food... well, I'm assuming it went stale at _some_ point in the last few centuries.”

“ Well, good to know that, because they've got the ship,” DT said. “ Your bombs went off, but they only got the shiny princess. She teleported most of them out but the last one... boom. Right in her hands.”

“ Oh, did she die?” Adora asked, flipping up her mask. “ That would be incredibly helpful to us.”

“ No, she lived,” the shapeshifter sighed. “ She fell rather dramatically into Catra's arms- there was some yelling about, oh, what did she say...”

The shapeshifter turned into Catra. “ _Sister!_ Yes, that was the term she used.”

“ Sister?...” Adora said, quirking an eyebrow. “ That's... odd. What happened after that?”

“ Some mystical magical glow, golden, and the princess with the tiny, useless, rather ugly angel wings lived. Honestly if I was her I'd get those cut off. Why advertise that the ugly duckling will never become a swan? Crippling self-doubt is so cliché. There are _much_ more interesting psychological issues, don't you think?”

“ Wouldn't know,” Adora said, flipping her mask back down. “ Don't have any.”

( Unseen by her, the lizard-like changeling's grin grew terribly sharp, just for a second. This one... this one was going to be a _fun_ role to learn.)

“ Well, at any rate, that's the scoop. Did I earn any _future_ commissions, or are we a one-hit wonder, darling?”

“ Oh, you've earned it,” Adora said, as she finished up the last touches on the robot's sigil. “ You bought me time to come back home and work on an idea I had. If you're willing, we can continue this working relationship.”

“ Love to~, darling. Though... might I ask _why_ you are busily tattooing a robot? Not that I'm judging, everyone needs a hobby.”

Adora laughed. “ Okay, you're pretty funny. I'm not paying extra for amusement, but that's not bad. Tattooing a robot. Heh.”

She stood up and backed away from the robot, lifting her mask. She drew a symbol of light in the air with her burned hand, aimed at the bot, concentrating through the slight blur that now marred her left eye.

“ I don't know anything about tech- but I _do_ know a lot about magic, these days. It's all symbols and language... and I wrote on the robot the word for _lie._ This is the word for _sight..._ ”

She whispered her spell, and the bot... disappeared.

Double Trouble cocked their head, and Adora grinned.

“ Can't improve the bots the technological way... so I'm improving them in another. And I've got other ideas, too...”

Double Trouble looked around, a keen eye for detail telling them that not _all_ the bots had the same glyphs. “ What do these other symbols say?”

Adora held up her scarred arm.

“ That one means _burn_.”

The shapeshifter quirked an eyebrow as Adora broke out into a fit of strange laughter.

( _What in the world did I sign myself up for?_ They thought, with excitement and trepidation both. This would need a delicate touch...)

-

Glimmer slept fitfully, feeling a bit bored when awake but not in any condition to _do_ anything.

Catra and Bow had taken off that morning. Elberon had been attacked and all available forces were busy; Catra had volunteered though Angella knew she wanted to stay with Glimmer.

Glimmer had pushed her to go. She'd recover just fine, with Catra watching over her or not, though she had to admit it was comforting to have her around, or curled up at her feet. Like a living security blanket.

So Catra had taken off with Swift Wind and Bow, and left Glimmer a trackerpad so she could hassle them whenever she felt like it, which she was mostly determined _not_ to do...

But she really _was_ bored when she was awake. Thankfully, she was so tired that sleep came easy, and the sleep wasn't bad, though the painkiller they'd put her on gave her... odd dreams.

( The world of the portal... a world that never was, but Glimmer suspected that memories of it would be with her until the day she died.)

From one such odd dream, she awoke, to find someone looming over her bed, a familiar someone in a bug-eyed welding mask with Horde insignia wrapped around one arm.

“ Greetings, Princess Glimmer,” Entrapta said, lowering herself closer, entire body tucked away in a single long mass of her hair, her body raised up like a viper about to strike. “ How would you like to destroy the Horde?”

...What?

“ Shouldn't you be asking Catra or my mom about this?” Glimmer asked. “ I... my entire body aches, Entrapta, I'm not really in the best of places right now.”

“ Oh, no, but you will be,” Entrapta replied. “ You'll heal. You'll recover. And then... then you will be in the perfect position to do what I need you to do. In the perfect position to do it in secret, so no one finds out.”

“ Why would I do any of that, whatever it is?” Glimmer asked. Entrapta cocked her head to the side, and leaned down low, close to her.

“ Shadow Weaver told me to tell you, if you asked why... that you should help, because Micah's daughter deserved to be more than just Catra's sidekick. That you were worthy of being _more._ ”

A surge of emotion through Glimmer, so strong even she couldn't parse everything those words made her feel.

( Give the old witch credit; give her a single button to push, and she could write you a symphony.)

“ Get out,” Glimmer growled at her.

“ She told me you'd say that, too,” Entrapta answered, almost... cheerfully. “ Bring tiny food to Dryll when you're ready to talk.”

And then she slithered out, and Glimmer was left alone with all _kinds_ of thoughts flickering through her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More changes, more and more...
> 
> Remember to leave a review!


	3. Adora of the Horde

**Adora of the Horde**

Somewhere, in the deepest parts of space, a thing that bore many titles- and whose true name was _Monster_ \- saw the flash of a distress signal on his console, sent by one he had thought long-since dead.

The signal lasted only for a few seconds, then went silent. Almost a mechanical hiccup, the computer equivalent of a sneeze. Nothing important.

The thing's servants, though, they all hyperfocused on that little blip. After all, their master had considered it, was _still_ considering it, and so his servants held their breath, and all the universe about him was silent.

The silence stretched, in that terrible place, none of his servants daring to be first to disturb the peace in the presence of their god, waiting for his judgment, the smartest among them wondering what the signal had been, to be worthy of his consideration for so many long moments.

After that period of quiet, the light of the universe dismissed it as a glitch; an electronic hallucination, and turned his attention to other matters. Reality let out its long-held breath, and the servants resumed their usual work.

But... idly, as a just-in-case measure... he put one of his many servants to the task of watching the area of space the signal had come from, to tell him if anything else should change.

And then the great and terrible lord sat back in his throne, and thought of it no more... for a time.

-

Adora tossed and turned in her bed.

Shadow Weaver's fingers, cold at her temple. Scrambling her mind. Couldn't trust her thoughts, couldn't trust anything cold and dark, it might be hers, it might be hers.

But the burning rage in her heart- the hot hellhound thing inside- her anger. She could trust that. Shadow Weaver was cold and dark, this was hot and bright; she would not have put it in Adora's heart.

So Adora wallowed in it, fed the beast inside, let her grow fat and strong. She gave it a meal of every hateful thing in her heart, everything she hated, let it chew on those bitter bones.

Catra, proving she was so strong in Light Hope's castle, she didn't need Adora anymore, so she threw her away.

( Inside, from the dark, a cold voice whispering the truth: _you were the one who walked away, Adora_.)

Scorpia's smiling face and easy trust, Entrapta's manic brilliance, neither of them understanding her pain, neither caring to _try_.

( Still that voice inside, cold and dark and wise: _you never let them in, Adora._ )

Shadow Weaver, who had hurt her so much, who had made her into this, with her cold touches and colder training.

( _She has not been here in months_ , whispered the thing that was kin of Shadow Weaver's... but wasn't _quite_ her, lacked the sadism, and in turn had gained wisdom. Whatever this cold, dark thing was, it _wasn't_ her adoptive mother. _She is in Brightmoon now; these are your own actions._ )

Catra, telling her the truth about herself, about... about what she _really_ was.

( _And offering you a second chance, Adora._ )

The whispers of the cold, hard truth burned away in the crackle of fire, Adora turning to the blaze of her delusions and her hate and oh, of _course_ , she could see it now. She turned in her dream and there it was, the thing that drove her, it sat amidst a burst of flames hot and bright as the sun and she wept for joy to see it.

It was a great hellhound- of course it was, she was Catra's opposite, right?- dozens of feet tall, and around its neck was a spiked collar that bore the name _Revenge-_ but both sides of the collar were spiked, outward _and_ in, and the great beast bled lava from its terrible wounds.

_Revenge for my hurts_ , Adora thought in the dream. _Revenge on Catra for abandoning me. Revenge on Shadow Weaver for lying to me, all these years. It hurts me, but everything hurts, who cared?_

Revenge on the universe, for making her a First One, and only telling her when it was too late.

( _I'm sorry_ )

She looked up, past the collar, and the hellhound had not a dog's face, but her own, and its eyes were blazing pools of hellfire.

It smiled at her, and she smiled back, and when it opened its mouth fire burst out and burned her to ashes and dust.

Adora woke up with a start, to the cool touch of Lonnie's hand.

“ Adora?” Lonnie asked. Adora struggled upward, the dream still on her, shedding it slowly as she came to full wakefulness.

“ I... what time is it?” Adora asked, trying desperately to cover for her sweating face, her shivering hands, blinking three times before she remembered that the blurriness in her left eye was there to stay.

Why had some piece of that other place come with her? She didn't know anyone else who kept echoes of the portal world with them. Whatever spell she'd cast when she fell in... it had carried, her wounds had attached to her magic and hitched a ride back to reality on it.

If she had used no magic, it would not have come with her- so this was just punishment for her actions, for her sins. Why not? She belonged to a race of angels, after all- and now, she was marked, her status as a fallen angel and a demon has cursed her. Her wings are the broken cinders of the glorious things they should have been, burned up in the hellfire of her deeds.

“ Adora!” Lonnie snapped. “ Come on, snap out of it!”

Adora blinked. Had she drifted off again...? _Pull it together._

“ Sorry,” she said, and threw on a jittery smile for one of the few people in the world she could still call friend... though she kept turning her face away from her. “ I... sorry. Been pulling too many late nights.”

Usually that would let her pass without comment; but tonight, Lonnie turned hard and worried eyes on her.

“ Adora,” she said, quietly, “ after all that's happened, morale's at an all-time low. Hordak's _dead_. The Horde was never built to deal with something like that happening. Desertions are skyrocketing, and I can't blame them.”

“ I... it has?” Adora asked. She... thought she'd seen a report about it, but she'd been focused on the next plan, on robots and Double Trouble and blowing up the fucking ship where her life was ruined.

( _You're a First One._ How can four words hurt her so much? No wonder she'd pulled the switch; the end of the world meant nothing to Adora. Her world had ended when those four words were said to her.)

Lonnie nodded. “ You'd know if you'd read our reports. Me and Rogelio and, hell, _Kyle_ are keeping it together- did you know Kyle's got a real dab hand at discipline? Apparently all that resentment built up over the years, we've been turning the deserters and rulebreakers we catch over to him and he's had some _creative_ ideas. People are getting scared to be turned over to him now.”

...What happened to Adora's life, that _Kyle_ came to be regarded as a figure of fear? “ I... am surprised,” Adora admitted, and Lonnie chuckled.

“ Fuck, me too,” she admitted. “ Almost as surprised as him confessing to Rogelio and them _finally_ getting somewhere with that relationship of theirs...”

Adora found it in her to smile; that was good news. Kyle had danced around it for years, despite Rogelio's open affection for him. “ Good.”

Lonnie nodded, smiling back... but then it faded, replaced with grim seriousness. “ Yeah. But even that was born of desperation; Kyle told him because he thought he wouldn't get another chance, Adora. It's all falling apart. Hordak's dead, we've got no Shadow Weaver, no princess- we're just ordinary people, Adora. We're the world's only hope of law and order, of a world that makes _sense,_ where your average person isn't held to the whims of _children._ You see that ice princess? She's what, ten? Maybe? But she's a living ice age, she rules an entire Kingdom, all because she's got magic no one can match. It's not natural, it's not _right_.”

Lonnie shook her head. “ We're the common man, Adora. We're just people. We're fighting for our right to exist... and to free the planet from its tyrants. A nobel goal... but we're straining to strike at the unarmored heels of living gods. We're fighting war goddesses and freaks and monsters, tech geniuses and ancient hardware and mages... and we're just people, Adora. All we've got is numbers and whatever the science guys can come up with from all that tech crap we stole... and you. Faith in you is the only reason the whole thing's not already fallen apart.”

It was a beautiful speech. If Adora didn't know the truth about the Horde- about this rapacious thing she was part of, if she didn't know it was Evil- she might have believed it. Lonnie, apparently, had never come to the realization Adora had... but then again, she'd never had a Catra, to throw it into such stark relief. Lonnie was giving the viewpoint of the average Hordesman...

But Adora knew what she was, and what the Horde was... so she focused on the last part of Lonnie's words.

“ Faith... in me?” Adora said, turning to look at her friend fully.

“ We all know your story,” Lonnie said. “ The guys you brought back from the Waste? They've been preaching to everyone who'll listen, and now some of the other Hordesmen are telling stories too.”

Her tone shifted, quicker and faster, mimicking the storytellers she'd heard. “ Did ya hear? Adora, who walked into the desert with four soldiers and came back at the head of an army! Adora, who was raised right here in the Fright Zone, just like any other Hordesman. Adora, she's got magic, she'll save us all!”

“ That's how they talk about me?” Adora asked, and Lonnie nodded her head, returning to her normal voice.

“ It's why I came up here so early,” Lonnie admitted. “ I wanted to talk to you about this, early, before you did anything today. Sorry about coming in early- heard you having a nightmare, figured you'd want to be woken up.”

A nightmare?... but the dream had been so lovely.

Adora shook it off. “ Thank you.”

Lonnie shrugged. “ No problem. Back to the matter at hand... Adora... they're primed to follow you, and we need it. We need _you._ But what we _don't_ need is you at half power, at ten percent, at... _whatever_ this is, jumping at ghosts and drifting off. You... you keep losing yourself, and losing _time_ , we've covered but you keep falling back into yourself... you... I don't know _what_ you need. I'm just a soldier, Adora, and it's all I'll ever be.”

_That's entirely wrong_ , Adora thought, as Lonnie built up steam, and Adora's heart was tugged along despite itself. It was incredible to watch; who knew Lonnie had it in her, to be so inspiring? _You're a good Force Captain, Lonnie._

“ But you... you inspire the troops. I can be your second in command, I can keep the machine running... but we need a leader. You're in control of an army of teenagers and a few scattered adults, Adora. We've lost a lot of people, most of the older ones are gone, ran off when Hordak died- save the old guys in your new science lab. That's it. The Horde is getting reborn, or it's dying; your choice. Rise to the occasion, or fall.”

Lonnie sighed. “ It's a shit situation you're in. It's just you and a youngster's mob... and us. We need you, Adora. Please, fight back whatever this is... we don't even have a title for you, Adora, but you're our new Hordak, for whatever that's worth. And we need you.”

...They did, didn't they? The Horde suffered without order. Order seemed so... _endemic_ to the efforts of abomination... the Alliance seemed to do well with its chaotic, devil-may-care attitude... but the Horde needed something else.

Adora didn't know if she could give it to them.

“ Adora, fuck, you're doing it again!” Lonnie said. Adora blinked.

“ I... Lonnie, I don't know if I _can_ ,” she told her friend, finally turning her face to her fully.

“ I've got suggestions, if you're willing to hear me out,” Lonnie said.

Adora shrugged weakly. “ Can't... can't be worse than nothing.

“ Okay,” Lonnie said... but she didn't immediately continue. She seemed... hesitant, clenched her hands a few times before continuing. “ Adora... I know you don't want anyone knowing, though I can't imagine _why_. I... what you found out on the ship. We were there, Adora.”

Lonnie sighed, and said the thing Adora hoped she would not.

“ I think you should tell them what you are.”

Adora swallowed heavily.

“ What do you mean?” Adora said, and the expert liar was caught out, her voice too high-pitched, Lonnie _couldn't_ know...

“ You and Catra weren't being quiet,” Lonnie said. “ Hell, you walked out and told everyone your people made the Sword. I've kept it tamped down, because it hurts you so much... but Adora, I know. You're a _First One._ ”

Adora flinched. The four words that had ruined her. She'd heard, once, that for every person there existed a sentence that could destroy them- and she was one of the lucky few to _hear_ that sentence, who got to know what exact sequence of words would ruin their lives.

“ Adora, it's not something to be _ashamed_ of,” Lonnie said. “ It's a gift! This is what we need! We can sell it- Hordak's hand-picked successor, the last of the First Ones, raised right here in the Fright Zone. Adora, this could do _wonders_ for morale!”

“ Lonnie...” Adora began... but now she was stuck. What was she supposed to say? She was a liar, and the truth was an unfamiliar thing in her mouth, it slipped off her tongue and fell right to the floor.

What was she supposed to say? _Lonnie, the Horde is evil, we're the bad guys. We've always been the bad guys. All that shit you just said was propaganda. We're monsters, and only Catra ever had the decency to figure it out... only Catra amongst us was ever good. Maybe that's why Shadow Weaver was so hard on her... the rest of us were evil, too, but Catra was good... Maybe the old wraith could sense it._

If she did that... Lonnie would break. She could see it, now that she bothered to look at her; Lonnie wasn't trying to convince her just because the _Horde_ needed it.

She was trying to convince Adora because _Lonnie_ needed it.

Lonnie, raised all her life to be a soldier, was _proud_ to be a soldier- she didn't even have the distractions of others, Lonnie had no interest in relationships. Her one goal in life had been to be a Horde officer, a Force Captain... and now the Horde was breaking. She _had_ to save it. Her hands trembled, just the smallest bit, and her eyes were a bit too wide... _scared_.

Lonnie was scared.

What a thought. Lonnie had _never_ been afraid. Even now, with the end of her world before her, Lonnie was showing only the smallest signs of fear...

_Because she's putting all her faith in me,_ Adora thought. Lonnie was holding off a full-blown panic attack because she had Adora to hang all her hopes on.

_Shifting sands to build a home on_ , Adora thought, with something like self-hating amusement... but...

These were her people. She... she owed them something... her Horde upbringing, a value instilled before all others, that some part of her still believed in.

_The Horde demands you do your duty, whatever that is._

No one could give Adora orders... but that didn't mean she didn't have a _duty_. She had a duty to these people... and yes, they were monsters, but so was Adora, who was she to judge? These were her people.

She'd had that thought on Mara's ship, looking at the savages and thugs and bandits she'd allied herself with... but be they savages and thugs and bandits, they were still _hers_. And... and there were others here, the more normal Hordesmen, like she had once been, lied to and manipulated- like Lonnie, who was looking at her and hoping against hope she'd pull it together.

...Adora was a monster. She had to accept that. There was no turning back after pulling the switch... there was no turning back after burning that village, and killing those innocents. She has been on a one-way street for a long, long time.

But... she had planned to be a _compassionate_ monster once already, hadn't she? When they'd been in the cold, and they'd found those shards that drove Catra berserk. She'd planned to keep Catra as her hostage, as her... her...

_Oh, for fuck's sake, admit it, Adora_ , she grumbled at herself. She was going to keep Catra as a lover, she could admit that, after kissing her, cutting herself on her, her tongue still had the scars. She was going to be good to her; not a prisoner, not a slave. A guest, honored, beloved, she would be... she would be taken _care_ of, the first care anyone in the Horde had ever taken with Catra.

She was going to be good to Catra... before... before that dream fell apart in her own hands, because of Scorpia.

( At least she was on Beast Island, Adora thought with a wicked spark of joy. A fitting punishment, for stealing her happy ending from her... even if she _had_ done it to save her life.)

...She could be good to the Horde, too, couldn't she? She was angry with so many people... but none of them were in the Horde now. Shadow Weaver in Brightmoon, Catra in Brightmoon, the universe wasn't something she could revenge herself on in practical terms...

Not by herself, at any rate. The Horde, the Horde was her weapon; she'd known that, once. Before the ship. Before _you're a First One._ Before the words that seared the inside of her skull, that made her want to puke and apologize to the shadows in her head for all her sins, that made her realize just how _vile_ she really was. She was meant to be a shining star, not this pit of blackness...

( _Some part of you knew beforehand_ , came that cold, dark voice. _You love Catra still, Adora._ )

Adora shook off the dark and cold. She... she wanted a lot of things... but she needed the Horde to get them. She... she had to _focus._ She wanted _vengeance_... and only the Horde was a weapon big enough to kill all her enemies, to make them _hurt_. She wanted everyone to suffer for her pain, she wanted the fire inside her heart to set the world ablaze.

Once upon a time, she'd planned to be Catra's worst enemy; now, three years later, it was time to make good on that promise. The portal was an abberation; born of her sudden, terrible understanding, a _mistake_ she'd made.

She... she could move past it. She _could_.

She clenched her unharmed fist.

“ You're doing it again, despite everything,” Lonnie said next to her, quiet and despairing, a tone she'd never heard out of Lonnie before. “ You just... went away, again.”

“ No,” Adora replied, letting this odd new feeling, this sense of... _responsibility_ , settle on her skin. “ I was _thinking_.”

Lonnie's face lit up with something like hope, and inside Adora, some ember of _compassion_ began to burn again.

Lonnie shouldn't look like that. Her friend, who _wanted_ this, _needed_ it, so badly, shouldn't hurt so much.

Adora had planned to be good to Catra, if no one else; maybe she could good to the Horde, if nothing else.

( She could not conceive of gray, her mind so set in binary paths that she could see things only in terms of purest Good and purest Evil... but she was approaching it, sideways, her empathy and friendship with Lonnie urging her to do something good despite her own beliefs.)

“ This is top priority now,” Adora growled. “ I'm leaving for the mission in Elberon, but the _second_ I'm back, I want me, you, Kyle and Rogelio sitting down, and we're going to pull a _miracle_ out of our collective asses. What's the point of being a First One if I can't do something amazing?”

“ That's right!” Lonnie said, and smiled, as Adora came back to herself. “ Damn right!”

Adora nodded. She... she could still feel the... _strangeness_ inside, the place where four words had split her soul in half. The fracture points had been there already, but the sentence had been a sledgehammer that shattered her... and it was still there. Always would be.

But for now, she could slap a bandaid on the wound, and get her ass _moving_.

“ First, real quick- is the Elberon plan ready to go?”

Lonnie frowned.

“ That shapeshifter's ready,” Lonnie said, the straightforward soldier having not much liked Double Trouble. Rogelio, of all people, liked DT, but nobody else had.

“ Okay,” Adora said. “ Let's go tell Kyle and Rogelio that we need to meet later, then I'll take off to Elberon. Meeting starts as soon as I'm back.”

“ Glad to see you back, Adora,” Lonnie said, and her grin was almost infectious, so obvious was her relief.

As Adora got up out of the bed, she grinned back.

“ Thank you, Lonnie. It's good to _be_ back. Now wait outside- I'll be right out.”

Lonnie nodded and headed out the door. Adora slipped from nightclothes into her white shirt, her red jacket... wincing as the burns on her left arm rubbed against the fabric. Sensitive today. She grabbed a bottle of ointment before she left, applying it even as she left her room.

“ Let's go find them,” she said to Lonnie, who saluted her with a smile.

They found the duo together, in more than the relationship sense; they were in one of the old barracks. Kyle was in the middle of disciplining a group of would-be runaways; with Rogelio standing next to him, he was having them take turns shoving each other into lockers, wielding a stun baton on anyone who hesitated.

“ Really?” Adora said when she saw it, and Lonnie shrugged.

“ He swears by it,” she replied.

“ Discipline will be maintained!” Kyle announced cheerfully as he whacked one of the slackers with the stun baton. “ I said shove your friend in the locker! Shove him!”

Rogelio sighed.

-

“ Well, that... was easy,” Bow said, as he finishing restringing his bow. “ Even by Horde standards, those were some _seriously_ unfaithful troops.”

“ Morale's probably shit with Hordak dead,” Catra opined. “ I mean, he _built_ the Horde, and now he's gone- the country wasn't designed to exist without him. The possibility wasn't even accounted for, I don't think.”

“ Which is great for us!” Swift Wind announced, right as the trackerpad beeped.

“ That'd be Glimmer,” Bow said, popping it out. “ Oh, hey, Glimmer!”

“ _Uhghghghghghghhgh_.”

“ That was impressive,” Catra noted, with some respect. “ You were reaching Mermista levels of disgusted, exhausted, _and_ bored, all at once.”

“ I cannot _describe_ how bored I am-”

“ Well, at least your friends left you this lovely trackerpad so you could call them!” came Angella's bright voice, the angel leaning down so she could be seen on the viewscreen. “ I do love these things. I was so sad when we lost the technology.”

“ Hello, your Majesty,” Bow said, while Catra grinned at the screen.

“ Hi, mom,” she said, a little more quietly than one might have expected. Her tail thrashed, happy, her ears perked up and swiveled to catch all of Angella's words.

( It was still too big to say all that loudly. Too big, too happy, too full of the terrible sweetness that has been Catra's reward for doing the right thing, all the long years of this dragging, endless war.)

“ Hello, dearies,” Angella said, waving one delicate gloved hand at them.

“ Wait, when did that happen?” Glimmer asked her mom, interrupting the hello's. “ What do you mean, _lost_ the technology? How do you lose an entire knowledge base?”

“ Fire Princess,” Angella said with a shrug. “ When she, well, effectively exploded, there were many side-effects. Some of the knock-on results included obliterating major technological areas that had survived the First Ones' retreat from our world. Add on Plumerian aggressiveness in the aftermath wiping out some of the last of the engineer-guilds, and, well, that was basically it. Up until roughly a hundred years ago, no one had managed to re-learn the technology. I was _delighted_ when they started showing up again.”

“ There was a Fire Princess?” Catra asked.

“ Yeah,” Glimmer said, a little smug. “ Mom told me about it, she apparently made a break for godhood that didn't work out so well- so not all the Horde's stories about evil princesses were totally lies, I guess!”

“ Wait, you said she exploded,” Bow said. “ Like, literally, or-”

“ Moving on,” Angella said, “ how did your mission go?”

“ It went great!” Catra said, as Bow looked mildly horrified next to her, pondering Angella's words. “ The Horde's badly demoralized. They fled Elberon without much resistance. We even captured a bot for Entrapta to look at!”

The bot protested with a beep from behind them.

“ Though it was all jittery and... weird,” Swift Wind stated, a bit lamely. “ Sorry for not having a better way to say it.”

“ He's right,” Catra said, backing up her bond partner. “ The bots we faced this time were twitchy, sometimes they'd just... _do_ stuff, almost like they were alive. They weren't doing the “relentless drone army” thing they did when Entrapta was making them, they were acting a lot more randomly.”

“ That's... new,” Glimmer said. Angella frowned.

“ _New_ on the battlefield almost always gets someone hurt or killed. Be careful, okay?”

“ Yes, mom,” Catra said, and her heart laughed, and danced a beautiful rondo.

“ Yes, your Majesty,” Bow said.

“ Didn't you say the battle was over?” Glimmer said.

“ Yeah,” Bow answered.

“ Why aren't ya'll on your way back then?”

Catra paused, then snickered. “ _Ya'll?_ ”

Glimmer groaned as Angella laughed. “ One of the nurses is from an outlying town, his accent is _infecting_ me, I'm going to turn into a hillbilly if he keeps tending me.”

“ I think it's pretty funny,” Angella admitted, and her daughter bore her amusement with dignified disgruntlement that delighted Catra to see; they really _had_ started repairing their bond, six months ago they would never have managed anything like this.

( The green thing in Catra's chest clutched. Being declared Angella's daughter should have soothed this savage thing, but somehow, it had made it _grow_ instead, she... she was so _jealous_ it _sickened_ her, she was so ashamed of this greedy grasping thing in her heart... it was why she'd stayed with Glimmer when she was hurt, trying to assuage the guilt she felt, trying to quiet this ugly thing in her heart.)

“ At any rate, yokelisms aside, the question stands- what are you guys doing?”

“ Elberon's throwing us a party!” Swift Wind said. “ Never had a victory party before! Well, not one that wasn't thrown at Brightmoon.”

“ The Horde's hand must have been pretty light on them to throw a banquet so soon after their release,” Angella opined.

“ Makes sense. They only got taken over a few months ago, and that was right when Hordak died,” Catra said. “ The local Horde probably didn't know what to do and was waiting for orders before they started oppressing the locals... orders they didn't get, because we showed up and started punching guys out.”

“ I kicked them!”

“ Indeed you did,” Catra said, scratching behind Swift Wind's ears.

“ Ah, yes, hands, the only reason to allow a rider,” he said, as she reached an itch no hoof could ever scratch.

“ You _would_ free a town that throws parties the one time I'm too exploded to participate,” Glimmer complained, but her tone was light and teasing. “ Feel free to participate, but just know that I will _absolutely_ hold this against you for an unreasonably long period of time.”

“ Duly noted,” Bow said dryly. “ Kind of you to warn us.”

“ I was feeling benevolent today,” Glimmer said. Angella chuckled and Catra rolled her eyes as the Best Friend Squad Minus One reached the doors of Elberon's town hall.

“ Anyway, we're here, so we're going to jump off. We won't stay too long- just long enough to see everybody,” Catra said. “ Maybe... maybe eat some stuff, I'm kinda hungry.”

“ I wish to have a statue,” Swift Wind announced. “ Horses never get statues, unless some dude's riding us. Unfair, says I! Horses demand statue equality!”

“ Well, good luck dealing with the locale equine revolutionary,” Glimmer said. “ See ya, sis! Bow, keep them alive, please? She's family, and the horse is her fault and responsibility both.”

“ I will,” Bow said, as Swift Wind rambled something about statue poses and horse legs while Catra put hand to forehead.

“ Be good, all of you,” Angella said.

“ We will be,” Catra said. “ We'll be back soon- we won't stay too long at the party.”

“ See you later,” Glimmer said, and switched the comms off.

Catra and Bow opened the doors- and it turned out _everyone in Elberon_ was in attendance. Mothfolk ran about lighting candles, hanging up banners, or even messing around on abandoned Horde equipment.

“ It's a party, alright!” Catra said, smiling as she looked at the revelers.

“ First Ones,” Bow said with awe. “ It's a party for us!”

“ It's a _big_ party!” Catra said, nose twitching as she took in all the smells, ears swiveling to catch all the sounds.

“ It's a _big_ party... for _us!_ ”

“ We could stay a little while,” Catra said, tail lashing just a little. “ I mean, not _too_ long, but it'd be rude to dismiss the party entirely...”

“ Oh, so good to see you!” the mayor said. “ At this enormous, very attention-grabbing, incredibly conspicuous party that's painting a giant target on all of our backs!”

Catra wanted to agree with her, but then she saw it.

“ Bow! There's a _me_ cake! I don't even like cake, but there's a _me_ cake!”

“ Whoooooa!”

And thus the trio promptly forgot about not spending too much time at the party.

There were magic tricks from Bow, impressing the locals, kids and adults alike. A very buff woman picked Catra up and hugged her, which she acquiesced to- once. She wasn't particularly attracted to muscles.

( Unless they were Adora's. Other people had a type; Catra had a _person_.)

Swift Wind got adored by everyone, and had flower things put in his hair. Catra rubbed the vast mane of her own and wondered what she'd look like with a shorter cut... but ehh. She'd had this hairstyle too long to change it. Somebody else would have to cut it off her to get her to have a new haircut.

And Catra- Catra got to show off, to an adoring crowd, who thought everything she did was perfect.

( Somewhere inside, the desperate, feral child, never loved by its mother, clutched tight all the adoration she was receiving. Three years in Brightmoon had healed Catra of much of her spiritual wounds, and her adoption had made that healing permanent... but some part of her would always be that little girl, hiding from the dark, hungry for even the smallest scrap of love.)

She lifted benches, flexed her muscles, and generally just showed off... right up until the point that one particularly pink example of mothfolk ran over, and Catra met, for the first time, her absolute biggest fan.

“ Oh-my-stars-and-by-the-moons-you're-SHE-RA-oh-myyyyyyyyy-gooooosh!”

Catra blinked as the little one spun a literal circle around her, twirling as she did so. The short girl's energy blasted her more ferociously than any tank shell ever had; the mothfolk _jittered_ in place like a jackhammer that had taken a lethal dose of caffeine. She was also _intensely_ pink, pink on a level Catra hadn't known existed until this moment- and given that Catra was part of the _Princess Alliance_ , that was saying something.

“ I'm Flutterina-I'm-a-Lunoth-I-mean-we're-all-Lunoths-here-but-you're-SHE-RA!”

“ Yes, I am,” Catra said, the usually smooth, silver-tongued warrior so overwhelmed she couldn't think of a better response.

“ _Maybe_ slow down, Flutterina,” the mayor said, approaching She-Ra in her time of distress, the mayor having recovered from her panic over the confetti cannons. “ You can be a bit overwhelming when you go full speed.”

“ Sorry-sorry, sorry!” the girl said, drawing herself back in with obvious, visible effort. “ I... I am really fast. Sorry. I get excited.”

“ It's alright,” the mayor said, putting a gentle hand on the girl. “ Some Lunoths are high-strung by nature, like myself, but Flutterina's in a category all her own. It's practically a superpower!”

The little girl nodded, fast and rapid. “ I'm super fast! Healer said it was because I have no psychological barriers and so I commit-myself-a-hundred-percent plus-my-nerves-are-firing-all-the-time! Trauma related, he said! I took up running because I really needed to burn off the excess energy and also-sometimes-I-bothered-the-other-kids-and-they-tried-to-beat-me-up but I outran them and so I haven't been punched in years! I wanna join the Rebellion!”

“ Flutterina, I'm afraid you're bothering our guest,” the mayor said gently, but Catra- who'd finally caught up with some of what the small one was saying- turned her words over in her head.

Catra hunkered down, got on Flutterina's eye level. “ The other kids beat you up?” she asked. Flutterina shook her head.

“ Not anymore, and even back in the day, only if they could catch me, and I'm-super-fast!”

“ That's mostly stopped,” the mayor said. “ Flutterina didn't always act appropriately, and the other children didn't always react appropriately, but we found a way to make things work. We're a small community, especially since your people were taken, so we try to keep things peaceful here.”

“ My... people?” Catra said, turning her head.

“ Yes, the magicats,” the mayor said. “ We Lunoths have always followed the Moonstone; your people preferred the Black Garnet, but we knew each other in the past.”

“ I... we need to talk, later,” Catra said to her. Magicat?... she vaguely recalled Shadow Weaver having said that once... but she knew nothing more. It hadn't even occurred to her to wonder about her own species up to this point, she'd never _seen_ another one of her kind... and in the last three years she'd had the war and Brightmoon and Angella ( _mother_ ) to think about. Shadow Weaver had also mentioned something about... Thundera? Thundarr? Something, that just tickled the back of Catra's mind, and was gone.

The mayor nodded.

“ Are you a magicat? I've-heard-stories-about-them! Can you turn into a panther?” Flutterina asked her.

“ Not that I'm aware of,” Catra said. “ And I mean, I'm _mostly_ a cat right now, I'm not sure going full panther would change much? Except I'd lose my hands. Not sure how I'd wield the sword in that state.”

Flutterina giggled. “ Put it right in your teeth! Hack-growl-slash! Like a pirate! Oooh, you'd be a pirate panther!”

Catra laughed with her at the mental image, while idly, her mind thought _Pirate Panther_... _that would be an_ _ **excellent**_ _band name._

“ You know, small one,” Catra said, not sure why she was spending so much time on this kid, “ I used to get beaten up by other kids, too.”

Flutterina gasped. “ No! But-you're-She-Ra! Who would dare?!?”

“ I wasn't always She-Ra,” Catra said. “ For a long time, I was just a kid nobody much liked. Some of it was my fault; I was kind of a jerk... but a lot of it was their fault, too.”

Flutterina's eyes were wide, and had little tears at their corners. “ What did you do?”

“ I escaped,” Catra said. “ I had one friend- just one. She helped me. I got out... and I turned out to be She-Ra. The Sword was waiting for me; once I got out, it found me, and the rest... the rest is history.”

“ Yeah, the _coolest_ history!” Flutterina said, giving her a smile was so wide that Catra couldn't help but smile back.

_Kid's so honest_ , Catra thought. _Kind of person you just trust, instinctively... despite all that pink._

“ Wanna go hang some banners with me?” Catra offered gently. She knew what it was like to be the kid the others didn't like- so she'd make this small one's day, let her hang out with her heroine.

Flutterina's eyes were full of happy tears. “ Yes-yes, yes!”

Flutterina stuck with her the rest of the party, chatting amicably about... all _kinds_ of stuff, and Catra did her best to pay attention, even when Flutterina's nerves and speed ran away with her and her words ran together into jittery mush. The kid swirled around her, ate three times in her body weight in food, and jumped from topic to topic without rhyme or reason; Catra found it kinda fun. It was interesting, at least, if exhausting.

Then a scout came back with reports of bots, and Catra took off on Swift Wind, seeing no need to stop the party.

-

The bots- ordinary Entrapta-style bots- were found swiftly and dealt with just as easily, a few sword strikes and Swift Wind kicking them into each other finishes the lot.

“ Did that seem too easy to you?” Swift Wind asked.

“ Nah, I mean, it's just Adora's goons,” Catra said. “ Hordak's dead. What's the Horde gonna do, pull new tech out of thin air? They don't have Hordak and they don't have Entrapta. They have no one who can do anything new with technology.”

Behind her, runes engraved on the bots began to glow a deep bonfire orange.

“ Uhh, Catra?” Swift Wind said, stepping back. “ Do they have anyone who can do something new with _magic_?”

“ ...Oh, yeah,” Catra said, as she and Swift Wind booked it, right before the bots exploded into firestorms.

-

“ Okay, we're a little singed but otherwise good!” Catra announced. “ So fair warning, new Horde bots explode into fireballs when they die...”

She trailed off. There was no one here... and the place looked _attacked_.

“ This isn't a surprise party, right?” Swift Wind said, and Catra drew her Sword.

“ No,” she growled. What- where _were_ they?

She heard movement, and found the small one, Flutterina, hiding behind a table, and she told them a story of her people's abduction.

-

“ Guards,” Catra growled quietly from her position in the bushes near the Horde's camp. “ I'll take them out.”

“ I'll help,” Flutterina said, popping up next to her.

“ You- no,” Catra said. “ I... I already underestimated Adora. I got your people captured. I'm not risking you, too.”

“ Yet you'll risk me,” Swift Wind commented.

“ Hush, you're my bond partner, you're stuck with me,” Catra said. “ But this- I don't want you getting hurt, Flutterina.”

Flutterina gave her an odd, sideways glance, and a mischievous smile Catra had trouble recognizing- until the catfolk realized that she'd never been on _this_ side of that smile before.

“ A lot of the kids, they told me what I could and couldn't do, too. Sorry-She-Ra!”

And then she was _gone_ , bursting out of the underbrush at a speed that even Catra was surprised by. Catra strangled her instinctive cry when she saw Flutterina skid to a stop before the guards.

“ Hey-guys-oh-no-I'm-caught!” she said, before whirling back around and zooming off into the forest near Catra, the Hordesmen taking a few moments to catch up.

“ Oh, uh, hey, come back here!” the taller soldier said, and the duo took off after her. They didn't catch her... but they _did_ catch a She-Ra fist, one each, crumpling them to the ground, revealing a lizardfolk and a redheaded human girl under the broken helmets.

“ I... Flutterina,” Catra said, looking back at the kids' smug expression.

“ I said I was super fast!”

“ Apparently,” Catra said, recognizing in the youngster's expression the same self-confidence that, once upon a time, had let Catra survive the Fright Zone and Shadow Weaver both... and with that memory bubbling up inside her, she was unable to keep herself from adding, “ You did good, kid.”

Flutterina beamed at her praise as Catra picked up one of the Hordesmen's trackerpads, and tried to figure it out. Bow would be better at this, but... but he was taken, too, she'd...

She'd made a mistake.

She'd made a mistake, and all the people of Elberon had paid for it, and _Bow_ had paid for it- if he was hurt, she'd never forgive herself. Her heart seized up at the thought. So soon after Glimmer got hurt, she'd get Bow hurt, she was doing a _fine_ fucking job as Angella's daughter right now.

And this fucking trackerpad wasn't _cooperating!_

“ Hey,” Flutterina said. “ She-Ra, why are you mad? I didn't-do-anything-did-I?”

Catra whipped her head around, almost ready to bite the kid's head off- until she saw her face. A little face, turned up to her, nervous and worried, and... dammit, this kid was _killing_ her, she had worn that face too.

Hell, Flutterina had it _worse_ ; Catra had Adora, once upon a time, but Flutterina- she didn't have _anyone_. She had nothing... except her faith in She-Ra.

With an effort of will greater than Catra would like to admit, she bit down, _hard_ , on her sharp tongue, and forced herself to be kind.

( Not all the edges had worn off of her in her time in the Alliance; but now she had enough self-control to choose who got the spikes, and who got the softness. Sometimes she even made the _right_ choice.)

“ They've got my friend,” she said to the little girl. “ I'm mad as hell... but not at you. You haven't done anything wrong- unless you secretly betrayed Elberon to them.”

“ Nope!” Flutterina said, obviously relieved, and snapping... actually a _really_ good salute, she must have practiced. “ I'm ready to do whatever you need!”

The trackerpad chose that moment to work, and Catra finally had a plan.

“ Okay, do what I say, and we'll set them free,” she growled, and Flutterina hopped in place, eager to help.

-

The plan was simple. Flutterina would distract guards with her speed, and drag them out of position into ambushes. Catra and Swift Wind would pummel them.

The plan went well, mostly; Flutterina didn't seem to tire like you'd think she would, blitzing past guard patrols and luring them back to Catra's waiting fists and Swift Wind's hooves. None of them put up much of a fight. The Horde wasn't doing well, that was clear; the guard patrols lackluster and few in number. Hordak's death had damn near broken the organization, just like their intelligence had suggested.

Which made it odd that they'd pulled off the abduction of Elberon... _Adora, or one of her personal squad, must be in command here_ , Catra thought to herself as she headbutted a guard into unconsciousness. Flutterina hopped gleefully at seeing her in action as Catra pondered the possibilty of facing Adora again.

... _Please,_ she prayed, to whatever force in the universe granted the prayers of destined heroines, _let her be... better._

A lame ending and a lame prayer, but... but she didn't have the _words_ , not for what she was hoping for. An Adora who wasn't made half out of newborn star would be a start.

_I'll save you_ , Catra promised herself, and tried not to think how hollow the promise was beginning to sound, after three years and the portal.

While this was going on inside, they kept at the work, and some of Catra's old Horde training reared up in the back of her head, automatically judging her new Lunoth companion's fitness for the battlefield. She was small and weak, a bit under the age at which the Horde actually threw candidates onto the field- for practical, rather than moral, reasons- but her willingness to obey orders and her sheer speed were both strong points in her favor. Not a _traditional_ Horde soldier, but she would do. If she could fly- and Catra had no idea how Lunoth wings worked, if they were flight-capable at all or what- Flutterina would make an _excellent_ scout.

She listened to orders, at least. Flutterina, thankfully, did not share the problems of the princesses; she treated She-Ra's words like holy writ, once she was convinced She-Ra was ready to accept her as a Rebel soldier. Good kid, Catra thought.

( It didn't occur to Catra that she was too young to expose to violence, because a life in the Horde had convinced her that children _should_ be trained as soldiers. Some of her life as a Hordesman had stayed with her, despite everything.)

In time, they reached the space where the people of Elberon were being captured... and walked right into a trap.

“ Hey, Catra,” Adora said, from a catwalk above her.

-

“ What good is the Tech Master without any tech?”

Bow smirked.

“ Not the first time I've been in a Horde prison. Now, Catra's out there, and she'll save us- but I'm not gonna make her job any harder. We're the Best Friend _Squad_ , not _Catra and Company_. And... well, I like to keep a few tricks of my own up my sleeve.”

He produced a piece of tech from behind the ear of an Elberon child, and with a kid's bow and arrow, broke them out.

_What good is the Tech Master without any tech?_ Bow thought smugly as they hauled themselves out. _Guess we'll never need to find out._

( He was so nice that people forgot this about Bow- he had _chosen_ the life of a soldier. Of the Squad, he was, perhaps, the most impressive- no destiny had picked him, he was no son of an immortal Queen nor godlike She-Ra. He was just a man... and a volunteer in the fight for freedom.)

“ The prisoners are escaping!” came a strangled yell. The yell got more strangled when Bow ran over and kicked the soldier in the gut, grabbing his stun baton and flinging it with pinpoint accuracy into his companion, shocking them into submission as Bow punched the first guard one more time, knocking them out.

...And that was it. Huh?

“ Woohoo, Bow! The Tech Master has saved us!” bellowed the big Elberon woman.

“ Yeah...” he said. “ But where are the rest of the guards? Prison this size, there should have been more!”

“ Oh, that's my fault!” came a sweet-sounding voice from nearby.

Bow turned towards the voice, and saw a surprisingly familiar face.

“ Scorpia?”

She waved cheerfully with one pincer. “ Hey Bow!”

-

Adora above her- and her arm, she was so _burned_ , but Catra forced herself not to look at that. Adora, looking down on her, her right eye still that fine blue, the left milky, as though a cloud had drifted over the sky.

“ Adora...” Catra began. Flutterina piped up from behind her.

“ Ooh, I know about her!” she said. “ Your girlfriend, right? Mad that you left the Horde!”

There was a pause then, and finally Adora laughed- but not the ghastly cackles she'd been so full of since _you're a First One_ , but genuine, honest laughter.

“ I- _what?!?_ ” Adora said. “ Wait, where the hell did you hear that, small one?”

“ That's what everybody says!” the mothfolk insisted. “ Catra loved you and you loved her, but then she left to be She-Ra and you decided that if she didn't love you you'd destroy her!”

Adora wiped a tear from her eyes, wincing a little when she touched her left. “ I mean, she's not _wrong_ ,” the former Force Captain replied. “ Right, _darling_?”

She giggled again, as Catra's guts did _things_ , hearing Adora call her that.

“ Please, leave the Horde behind,” Catra begged, changing the subject. “ Come with me. The Horde's dying, Adora. Come with me. Angella- I can convince her to give you a light sentence, we can still be together...”

“ After everything?” Adora said, shaking her head. “ You've... you've _really_ committed yourself to your role, haven't you? Heroine... trying to save everybody. I... thank you for that, I suppose... but there's no going back, Catra. The Horde's my home- where I was born and raised.”

Adora raised her unburnt hand, and clicked her fingers. There was a sound, as of drone robots on the march... but Catra couldn't _see_ them, even as she looked around. All around her, though, she saw what looked like puffs of dust, kicked up by robot feet, and the noise was getting louder... but where _were_ they, she couldn't see them!

“ Made a trap for you,” Adora drawled. “ Something _special_. Think of it like date night, darling.”

Lasers flashed out of nothingness, and that was when Catra realized what was going on, even as Flutterina voiced it.

“ The drones are invisible!” the tiny Lunoth yelped as she hopped in place, trying to find somewhere safe as lasers rained on them.

“ Yep!” Adora yelled- and then cast a spell herself, which drew a great circle of flames around Catra and Flutterina. “ A present, just for you, my love! One _last_ present!”

-

“ Flutterina, _run_!” She-Ra yelled, vainly fighting back against an army of foes she couldn't see. Her strikes kept hitting empty air, though every now and then one cleaved through metal and wire, and parts became visible as they fell out of the machines, which collapsed and died.

She growled and fought, and Flutterina thought she'd never seen anything so magnificent; She-Ra, standing tall as a giant, that great Sword in her hands, gold and white and divine. Her fur shone with the orange of the setting sun, her black hair the mane of a great and noble lion, her blue and yellow eyes not scared or worried but focused on the fight. She snarled as she battled, shining in the sun, lasers striking and glinting off of her armor harmlessly, each of her strikes a crash of thunder and lightning. Swift Wind beside her, dancing and bucking, the silly, talkative horse not so silly now that he was in the middle of combat, his horn sharp as the Sword and his hooves sending invisible robots flying, visible innards trailing them like obscure comet tails.

Flutterina never thought she'd get a chance to see her like this, in _person,_ even when Elberon was invaded... but now her she was, her hero, _She-Ra_ , trying to save her, because She-Ra saved _everybody_. She'd even tried to save what was, apparently, her former girlfriend, the very person who was trying to kill her... and wasn't that fitting, that She-Ra would have a love story so tragic, so much larger than life? Her hero was everything Flutterina had ever wanted her to be; so many people were disappointed with their heroes, but Flutterina had met hers, and not found her wanting.

But even as that great heroine fought, Flutterina, who had no experience with combat, who was right now in the middle of her first real fight, could tell that She-Ra was going to be bore down by sheer weight of numbers. Adora stared down from her catwalk, giggling and chuckling to herself as her invisible swarm tore at She-Ra. Hit after hit, lasers or drone legs striking at her, invisible but the impact was obvious...

Flutterina forced herself to look away. At least the bots weren't attacking _her_.

( Adora had so few rules... but Flutterina, so young, so vulnerable... Adora, unconsciously, refused to hurt her, and turned her bots to She-Ra alone. Even thinking of herself as a beast, Adora had lines she, unintentionally, would not cross.)

There had to be something she could do to help...

Her eyes alighted on the artillery Elberon had modified after the Horde left, the machines dragged from the party, and set on a tall platform around this circular arena. A note, visible even at this distance, stated it was due for repairs, and unsuitable for use until then.

...Flutterina wondered if it still had confetti in it.

She ran. She ran as hard as she'd ever run before, losing herself into the rhythm of muscles burning as her long, loping strides ate up the distance, of feet hitting the ground, so fast, faster than anyone could follow. She was the fastest runner in Elberon, a skill started when she ran from the other kids, honed in the time after the mayor's intervention because it gave an outlet for the energy inside Flutterina that no one else shared. The orphan had become swift... and she'd learned a few tricks in the meantime.

There was a ladder going up to the platform, but it wasn't anywhere near the artillery piece. Flutterina wasn't going to use it.

Instead, as she reached the wall, she performed an old stunt, one that never failed to make the mayor's heart leap up in her chest, something she'd learned to do just for the hell of it.

She put her feet on the wall, and ran _up_ it.

Momentum carried her against gravity's will for the first few steps, lifting her up. It wouldn't last forever, of course; she began to slow down, too far from the top.

That was fine. Lunoths had _wings._

Flutterina's wings weren't big enough, and she wasn't strong enough, to really _fly_ just yet... but she didn't have to.

Flutterina leapt right as her momentum started to die, strong legs carrying her thin form up, and she flapped her wings once, boosting her upwards. She stretched her left arm out- almost- almost...

At the very height of her jump, her hand rose above the catwalks floor, and she grabbed onto it.

She jerked as gravity tried to tug her down, struggling like a fish caught on a line, but her flailing feet kicked off the wall, hurtling her forward again, letting her right hand join her good strong left and help lift her up. Small biceps straining, her wings pumping, Flutterina hauled herself to the top of the catwalk.

She paused a second, to catch her breath- but not a moment longer, She-Ra needed her!

Flutterina hauled herself up, ran over to the artillery- come on, where was the button-

Found it!

She slammed her tiny fist down on it, and it barked colored paper all over the arena- colored paper that landed on the bots, and did not disappear.

“ She-Ra! The confetti!” Flutterina yelled. The bot's movement was shaking the paper off... but not that fast, and even bots that weren't hit were revealing themselves when they stepped on the colored paper that fell to the ground, distorting it.

“ On it, kid!” She-Ra roared, as she grabbed Swift Wind, and glorious, golden light washed over the both of them in a pulse that obliterated the machines, and sent Adora running.

Flutterina watched it with tears in her eyes.

“ So cool...”

-

The kid rejoined her, running down the wall instead of taking the ladder like a normal person, and sprinting towards her. Catra grinned as she arrived. Damn smart kid- and useful, too.

“ She-Ra! That-was-so-cool-you-were-gold!” she squeaked as she reached Catra, jumping up and down in place.

“ Yep,” Catra said. “ That trick you pulled with the confetti was just what I needed. There weren't even that many bots, I just couldn't tell with the whole invisible thing.”

Flutterina grinned, warm and cheerful.

“ Hey!” came a friendly voice, and Catra turned to see Bow, whole and unhurt, a sight that eased aches in her heart she hadn't even noticed.

“ Bow, you're okay,” Catra said, and the archer laughed. Behind him, Catra saw Elberon's citizens, whom she'd missed the first time, focusing on her friend.

“ Yep! I even brought a friend!” he said, stepping aside.

“ Hi wildcat!”

-

When they leave Elberon, they walk, instead of flying, eventually hooking up with a Rebel hover transport in the next town over from Elberon, one that takes them to Brightmoon for free.

“ Anything to be of use to She-Ra, ma'am,” said the very polite Eirelander at the wheel, the fungus folk giving her the smallest bow.

They walk- and ride- because they have two new additions to their forces. Scorpia, of course, because she is a Princess and a horde defector both, and she will be incredibly valuable in Brightmoon.

The other, who talks ninety-miles a minute, and is all smiles and nervous energy, is an orphan of Elberon- little Flutterina.

Bow had argued ferociously against it; she was too young, was the gist of his argument, she'll get killed, she'll get hurt.

“ Bow, her village got invaded, and the Horde murdered her parents years ago,” Catra had replied. “ She's already been hurt, and already risked death fighting for us. If she's here, we can at least keep an eye on her.”

Bow could not help but bow to reality- and thus it was that Flutterina joined the Princess Alliance, and became a member of the Great Rebellion.

-

They hit a Rebel warcamp before they reached Brightmoon, and decided to stay the night with them, leaving the Eirelander hover transport, who refused all payment.

“ It's not that I don't want to get paid,” he said. “ It's just that you folks have already paid me for this ride, years before we met.”

“ How so?” Bow said, and the fungus man had given him a glance.

“ I have family in Plumeria. Family who would have been killed, who tell a story every year at the family reunion. They tell of a princess what can teleport, who slugged the Horde soldier who held them at staff-point. They tell of an archer who put an arrow in the rifle that was trained on them. And they tell of a feline giant who lifted a tank over her head, a tank that had destroyed their home, and threw it into a squad of other tanks with a sound like divine thunder. They talk of three people who convinced their Princess to get up off her meditating couch and actually _fight_ for her people, and of how they regained their love for their monarch because of those three.”

He smiled at them, and had a little tear in his eyes. “ They got more kids, now. Kids they'd never have had... excepting you were there. My family's alive because of you. You've paid me, honestly and in full, with more besides.”

Catra had been a little overwhelmed at that, and simply waved him on; Bow had openly been in tears, and when they called Glimmer that night, he'd told her the story, and she'd gotten a bit weepy about it too.

( It was easy for them to forget what it meant, for so many, that they had been there, all these years.)

The warcamp was a fun place to stay for the night, this little camp a collection of vagabonds and volunteers, like so much of the Princess Alliance's forces were, just patchy tents arranged around a campfire, horses and carriages and wagons full of stolen Horde equipment in boxes and out. This rag-tag group was on its way back to its home in one of Brightmoon's smaller villages, with one stop at Brightmoon first.

They were a supply and quartermaster group, who had been raiding the Horde for years and found the job easier now as it slowly collapsed, taking the supplies intended to kill Allied troops and instead converting them into support for those very same soldiers. They'd stop at Brightmoon to drop off their haul, save the percentage they could keep, then head home.

The leader had been overjoyed to see his guests, honored to host them, popping open the finest foodstuffs they had. Bow had been given his pick of technological toys from their latest procurements, the tech master eventually taking only a few pieces of interesting circuitry to upgrade his trackerpad with, while Flutterina had asked for a Horde ration bar.

“ I... why?” Catra asked.

“ You used to eat these, right?” Flutterina said. “ I always wondered what they tasted like! Also I'm like super hungry all the time- running eats up energy, as does being so hyperactive-and-probably-growing-and-stuff! And I've heard that they taste like crap but they totally work as a source of nutrition and anyway-I'm-gonna-eat-it-now!”

Her words warping into a singular buzz, Catra had dropped the matter, and in-between chatting with the cheerful satyr who ran this raiding company and listening as Swift Wind tried to stir the horses to equine revolution, watched out of the corner of her eye as Flutterina took the ration bar in both hands and began gnawing on it.

“ This is terrible!” she announced around one huge mouthful, and Catra couldn't help but laugh.

-

Flutterina went off by herself, in the dark of the night. No one saw her go, the smallest of Rebel soldiers easy to miss.

When she was alone, she paused, sighed, and blinked rapidly... blinking the tears out of her eyes.

“ I'm gonna make you proud,” the youngster whispered. “ Mom, dad... I'm gonna... I'm gonna make you proud. I've already helped She-Ra... I...”

The orphan rubbed the tears out of her eyes, but they kept falling.

“ I'm... I'm heading to Brightmoon now. The holy place... you'd... you'd be happy, right? I... I don't really... I don't remember like I should. I'm sorry. I see your faces but I don't... I don't remember your voices... not anymore...”

She sobbed, things she'd kept inside for years finally released now; some tension left over from her first real battle, combined with the awe she felt in She-Ra's presence, overwhelming barriers she'd built inside herself. It was almost impressive that she'd held off _this_ long.

She cried, bawled her eyes out, idly wished she'd brought a handkerchief or something to wipe her nose with.

“ I'll make you proud,” she whispered, to figures that existed only in her mind, parents taken years ago by the Horde.

“ Hey, kid, what are you doing?” came a voice from nearby.

Flutterina jerked to attention. “ Oh, sorry! I... I didn't know anybody was out here-”

“ It's okay,” said her visitor, whose eyes gleamed a weird green for just a second before she stepped into the light, revealing themselves as Scorpia, the big princess they'd rescued earlier. “ Why are you crying?”

“ Don't tell anyone,” Flutterina pleaded desperately. “ They already think I'm too young, if they know I was out here crying they'd send me home, I can't... please, don't tell anyone!”

“ Hey, hey, calm down,” the big princess said, and fished a handkerchief out of a pocket with _incredible_ difficulty. “ Good thing I keep these, huh? Hard to get them out of a pocket when your hands are big fighting gloves though, heh. These pincers man, they are just... _not_ practical for most stuff. I mean, for fighting, heck yeah! But like, not much else.”

She hunkerd down to Flutterina's height, and handed the clean cloth to the small girl, who blew her nose on it and wiped her face.

“ You won't tell anyone?” she said. “ I have to be here.”

“ I won't tell anyone you were out here if you don't tell anyone I was,” Scorpia promised. “ And if you tell me why you were crying. I'm always interested in why people do stuff.”

Flutterina gave the kind stranger a sad look.

“ My parents,” she said, after a moment to gather her thoughts. “ They died fighting the Horde... I've wanted to fight back for years, but I've always been too young. They wouldn't let me leave. But this last attack- I helped. So they're letting me join. I... I have to fight the Horde. I have to strike back, do something they'd... they'd be proud of.”

Scorpia's face was sad, too, though she put on a small smile. “ Lost my family to the Horde, too,” she confided in the little one. “ Come on, let's go back- no more crying. I'll keep this quiet, and you do too, alright?”

Flutterina nodded, as Scorpia rose up, and offered her a claw. She took it, and the duo walked back to camp.

Flutterina never noticed the way Scorpia blinked her eyelids, one pair horizontal, on the way back.

-

“ Elberon was a success,” Adora said, wrapping up her part of the war council. “ Invisible robots were full combat-capable, and She-Ra had noticeable trouble dealing with them without outside assistance. Furthermore, Double Trouble is now working inside the enemy ranks.”

“ Good,” Lonnie said. “ I don't much like them, but hey, if they can help us win, I'm all for it.”

“ Indeed,” Adora said, rubbing at her eye. Damn thing hurt worse than the arm did. “ So, me and Lonnie were talking earlier... we need to do something about our morale problems.”

“ True,” Rogelio said. “ Everyone's pretty down and out. Kyle's keeping a lot of them here through fear, but that'll only work so long.”

Kyle nodded. “ Yeah, so... what are we gonna do?”

“ Hordak would have held a public thing,” Lonnie said. “ Terrified everyone back into place.”

“ Hordak wouldn't have these problems, because we only have these problems because Hordak's _dead_ ,” Rogelio pointed out in his reptile's tongue. Adora was just glad she'd finally figured it out in the last three years. “ Not sure we should do things the way Hordak did them- might make them start doing a comparison. Adora's impressive, but she doesn't have Hordak's... I don't know... weight? History? That little extra something.”

Adora nodded... but her brain began picking away, picking at how she'd cowed the desert dwellers, on speeches she'd overheard being given in the Princess Alliance.

“ I think we _do_ need to do something public,” she said. “ But different from how Hordak did it. I _want_ them to think of me like Hordak... but you're right, Rogelio, I don't want them _comparing_ me unfavorably to him. So something reminiscent, but different enough that I can start establishing myself...”

She thought of Elberon, and all that food they'd stolen- she'd taken it on a whim, more for the sheer pettiness of the action than any real desire- and the seed of an idea began to bloom. She absentmindedly rubbed ointment on her burned arm.

“ You also need a new look,” Rogelio said.

“ What, the burns that ugly?” Adora joked, but Rogelio shook his head.

“ No,” he said, “ but your current outfit is a Force Captain's outfit. You're bigger than that now. You need something... unique. Imposing.”

Kyle waved his hand in the air, like a kid in class.

“ Ooh! I can help! I always wanted to design armor, I mean, I'm not a great fighter or nothing but I've been hurt a _lot_ so I know what parts need armor the most-”

“ Kyle, I'm not sure _I get my ass kicked a lot_ really substitutes for engineering expertise,” Lonnie deadpanned. Rogelio bit down a laugh, trying not to join in the mocking of his boyfriend as Kyle puffed out his cheeks in rage.

“ Come on Loooonnniieee...”

Lonnie laughed, gentling her bullying nature. “ Don't make that face, you look like a fish.”

Adora chuckled, just absorbing the moment. Joy, friendship, camaraderie. This... this was nice.

Almost perfect.

( It was missing only one thing. _Her_ presence at her side, the taste of her lips, the ghost of a living person, all around Adora, a phantom tail curling lazily around her arm. If she were here it would truly be perfect, all Adora had ever wanted...)

She licked her lips, forcibly pulling herself back to the present. “ I... need an eyepatch,” she said.

“ Left eye that bad?” Lonnie asked.

“ I can still see out of it,” Adora said, “ but it's distracting, and too much light hitting it is painful. I might as well call it a loss. Get me Octavia, see if she's got a spare eyepatch we can modify to fit me.”

“ On it!” Kyle said. “ An eyepatch- ooh, let's make it red!”

“ Red?” Adora said.

“ We want to give you a presence,” Kyle said. “ But if you just look like Hordak, well, it'll be obvious you're just trying to fill his shoes, right? Like Rogelio was saying. You need a distinct identity, but something that still makes them think of Hordak. So let's keep the old colors, but invert them! More red, less black. Also, I don't think you use as much eyeliner as Hordak did.”

“ I don't use any eyeliner,” Adora said.

“ So I'm right!” Kyle replied, oblivious.

“ Kyle's got a point,” Rogelio said. “ Wouldn't be bad for the Horde to have a new symbol, too- people get fired up about small changes, little things. Nothing major, nothing huge, just a small something to say “hey, the leadership is **back.** ”

“ But what should we do? It needs to work with the old symbols,” Lonnie said.

Adora pondered the trouble. The old symbols...

( the hot thing inside her, the illusion she'd used in the desert, fire and heat and light)

Adora summoned up an illusion with her burned hand, of the Horde's outspread wings, and then added a single long line in red between them, one end the head of a reptile, the other end a spiked tail. From the head, a single thin puff of flame.

“ What about this?” she said, showing them the dragon she'd made.

-

The day after Elberon, the call went out: the Horde was to assemble before the main hall, on the grounds outside the sanctum. Normal duties were suspended for the day, and the soldiers were brought in alongside their Force Captains, standing in the long, neat rows Horde training had drilled into them. The Captains- all four that were left- gathered at the front, underneath a great raised dais that had been part of the building's original structure, before Hordak began adding onto it.

“ I still say I should be leader,” Grizzlor growled quietly to the others.

“ Oh, hush,” Octavia replied. She didn't know _what_ new bullshit the goddamn kids who'd somehow inherited the Horde had planned, but she'd at least hear them out. “ I wouldn't follow you and we both know it.”

“ And I wouldn't follow either of you,” Mantenna said, the Lunoth's cybernetic eyes zooming in on his troops as he took his place behind them. “ This Adora, though... lot of interesting rumors about her.”

“ And what have you heard, oh spymaster?” Dreer asked, the Mystacoran outcast cocking his head to the side.

“ Many things,” Mantenna whispered, his eyes sliding back in, now only prominent, not protuberant. “ That she is a sorceress. That our new recruits are all from the Crimson Waste... that she is a First One.”

“ Ha!” Grizzlor laughed. “ A First One. Tell me a lie I can _believe_ , at least.”

“ That's why I am considering it,” Mantenna whispered. Octavia didn't know if Mantenna whispered because his throat had gotten wounded, or just because he liked being creepy; the Octopode had never gotten on with the mothfolk. “ A lie would have to be believable, but truth can be anything. This... sounds like truth's audacity, to me.”

“ Interesting,” Dreer said. “ A First One _and_ a sorceress?”

“ Still after your magic?” Octavia said, though she grinned to show she had no malice behind it. She liked Dreer.

“ Once you've had it, you can't do anything but miss it,” Dreer admitted, his hands still turning in the old rune circles, hunting for the magic that had been taken from him. “ Though I do wonder who taught Adora.”

“ Shadow Weaver was her guardian,” Grizzlor said. “ I imagine she did.”

“ Then I pity her,” Dreer announced, and for a moment, all four of the remaining Force Captains were in agreement.

( No one in the Horde had liked Shadow Weaver. Hordak promoted ruthless efficiency without sentimentality- and that meant sadism was right _out_. It served no purpose. Shadow Weaver's casual cruelties, allowed because she was Hordak's only sorceress, had rankled many in the Horde.)

“ Wonder what she's thinking right now,” Octavia said.

-

_The fuck am I doing?_ Adora thought.

“ Focus, Adora,” Lonnie said. “ This is your first impression as who you are. Make it work!”

“ I'll... I'll try,” she admitted.

She was dressed well. Her left arm was covered in bright red and shining black armor, a sign of what Adora took from her, and the rest of her armor was likewise colored and fashionable (at least, Kyle thought it was fashionable, and being the only expert they had, she had to rely on him.) An eyepatch, red too, with her sigil in black. Her roaring shield, now done up with her colors, adding weight to her presence, a counterbalance in her right hand to her armored left.

She raised her left hand to them, and they grew silent, waiting to see what all this was about.

“ People of the Horde,” Adora began, voice enhanced by speakers she'd had put in the dais. She was looking over them, trying desperately to remember the script they'd come up with for this. “ Remove your helmets.”

Murmurs, all of surprise. That was an order Hordak had _never_ given.

( It had comforted him, to see those helmets, a sea of similar-looking faces; he could not make clones like his brother, but he could create uniformity in his own way.)

Adora waited to be obeyed, and for a few terrifying moments thought they would disobey- and that would break the Horde right there, if they decided not to obey her- but soon enough, Horde discipline kicked in, even for the strange order, and helmets came off.

A sea of confused, surprised faces looked at her, mostly young, and of all Etheria's races- humans and lunoths, Eirelanders and satyrs, lizardfolk and scorpioni, octopodes and bestials. Eyes glanced at each other, then to Adora, as they held their helmets in their hands.

They were surprised, off-balance. Good. When your feet weren't steady on the ground, it was easier to bowl you over.

Adora took in a breath. _Here goes nothing_.

“ You know me,” Adora said. “ You know my story. I was raised here, same as anyone else. I went through the same training, ate the same ration bars, slept on the same bunks. I reached Force Captain on my own merits, handpicked by Hordak himself, the way all Force Captains were.”

Noises, but she couldn't tell what kind, just had to plow on, even as her nerves leapt up her spine.

( _You weren't this freaked out when you tried to blow up the planet,_ some voice inside said, and she almost burst into giggles at the entirely true thought.)

“ But afterwards... afterwards, Hordak chose to reveal to me a secret. It is now time I told you that secret.”

With her left, she drew burning sigils in the air, and cast her spell.

The sky was replaced, showing now a conversation that never happened- Hordak, and Adora before him, in her inner sanctum. No sound, but Adora provided narration.

“ He showed me the portal he'd dragged me through. Hordak knew that someday, the Princesses might kill him; and so he prepared, just in case.”

Hordak, showing Adora a portal- showing an image of Hordak, surprisingly gentle, saving a baby in a ruined city. They'd spent an hour making that look _just_ right... though Adora was sure it was an absurd lie. Hordak had probably kicked her into Shadow Weaver's arms once he realized the portal didn't lead to his big brother, or however the hell it had happened.

“ He had been seeking First One's technology; he found me, instead. I am the last of my people, the last of my kind.”

Images of the First One's technology, the wonders of Adora's people.

“ I am a First One.”

Gasps, shouts of _knew it!_ , a few people protesting... but only a few. Emboldened, Adora rolled on.

“ He found me in the ruins of my people's works, the last of my kind, and he knew he had found his inheritor. He found me and chose me to be his successor, raised by Shadow Weaver as one of you so that I would know the Horde inside and out, so that I would be one of you.”

Images, flashes of her past- from childhood to now.

“ Shadow Weaver taught me magic,” she said, the scene shifting to the dark sorceress casting runes that Adora copied. The scene changed again, to Hordak teaching her at his war table, something else that had never happened... but everyone knew that she'd spent time with Hordak after being promoted. “ Hordak taught me to lead. I was prepared for this task, just in case; and time has proven Hordak wise.”

An image- Hordak, struck down from behind by Entrapta, whom few in the Horde had known personally, a heavy wrench in the purple-haired girl's hands, braining him.

“ Hordak was _betrayed_. Murdered, by a Princess he had taken in with open arms!”

Shouts, anger, rage. Shouts of anger. Rage. Good. Rage didn't hurt. Rage had kept Adora together through too many long nights, had been her only succor in times of trouble.

But Adora's arm trembled; this was so much magic, more than she'd ever used at one time before. _Keep going_ , she ordered herself. _They need this._

Buoyed on that thought, she turned the spell again, this time into a picture of the Horde as a whole, rows of troops.

“ We are all Hordak's children. And I, his chosen successor, swear to you this: I will guide you, brothers and sisters, to a better world. I _will_ fulfill the destiny Hordak entrusted to me!”

With one last burst of magic, she summoned her insignia, the Horde's new symbol, into the air, alongside a map of all Etheria. The dragon flew to the Fright Zone, becoming a red wave that emerged from that place to consume it all.

“ The Horde will stretch from sea to sea! We will take it all! We will push back! We will take Etheria!”

Cheers, even from the Force Captains, who _knew_ better. She _had_ them. This wasn't so different from her usual lies, just... just _bigger_.

Biggest, maybe.

The crowd's whispers, definitely friendly, cheered again when the red dragon's jaws bit down on Brightmoon. Soldiers looking at each other without the helmets to block their vision, looking up as the great dragon roared and all Etheria flew the flag of Adora's new Horde.

“ I bring magic. I bring the wisdom of my people. I bring power the Princesses cannot stop, cannot understand, cannot _fight!_ ” she bellowed. “ And they must pay for their crimes. Our leader, Hordak, slain by treachery! Our leader, Hordak, _my father and yours!_ I was taken in as an orphan, for I am the last of my people. You were taken in too, you are orphans the same as me. He was our father, and they _murdered_ him! Will you let his killers roam the world free?”

**NO!** the shout returns, excited and angry.

“ His great task falls to us! We are his children! We are his inheritors! Follow me, and we will _will_ bring order! We _will_ defeat the princesses! Order will prevail! I am Adora. I am Hordak's Chosen, and together, we are the Horde!” she roared, and they pumped their fists for her.

**ADORA! ADORA!** they shouted. Had any words ever sounded so sweet, or tasted so much like victory?

“ Now... eat. I am bringing the bounty of foreign lands to you, spoils of our most recent victory. Eat! From now on, whenever we conquer, you may take of the spoils of the new land. Hordak refrained, for he believed that the Princesses could be negotiated with. But they murdered him when he tried the road of peace. No more! We _take_ now! Eat! Relish the taste, and prepare yourself for more in the future! With each victory, we feast! For Hordak, our father! For the Horde!”

**FOR THE HORDE!** and it is so beautiful, all those voices, raised as one, repeating her words. Addicting. Monsters, each and every one, but Adora is growing more comfortable with that truth, she presides over this den of beasts as its master.

This isn't so bad.

She clicked the fingers of her unwounded hand, and on that signal, Horde soldiers- all individuals who were undergoing punishment- brought out the food. It was real food, not ration bars, stolen from Elberon's celebrations, put into iceboxes and brought here. It was mostly still good, and frankly, Horde soldiers wouldn't notice a small amount of spoiling; ration bars didn't prepare one for real food.

Rogelio was down there, the nicest of her quartet, giving instructions on how to eat the food to people who had only ever seen ration bars before, his words translated by those who spoke his tongue for those who didn't.

“ Have your fun. I will be planning our next attack; and more spoils like this will be in your hands, if you will but have faith in me.”

One last cheer, and Adora left. She walked the long hallways to her inner sanctum- what had once been Hordak's- shaking; she had never given such a speech before, to such a large crowd, but at least her nerves had waited until she was off the “stage”, as it were.

“ You okay?” Kyle asked as she entered. He was here to watch her back while she listened in on communications.

“ Yeah,” she said. “ Just... suddenly hit with jitters. Never gave a speech like that before,” she admitted as she slumped into her seat, not Hordak's great throne but a nearby chair before a computer screen that had been broken in the portal incident and could not be repaired at her engineer's current level of expertise. It still had power, though, and she'd been using it as a convenient battery for her own projects.

“ You okay? You... you don't look it,” Kyle offered nervously. “ You look... tense.”

“ I... don't feel great,” Adora admitted. “ Hold on, I gotta get to listening.”

Adora leaned forward and picked up the trackerpad, alongside a paper notepad and pen she'd put here before going out for her speech. With the pen in her good hand and her burned hand on the controls of the trackerpad, she was ready.

With a button press, she activated one of the microphones she'd had the science teams install around the Fright Zone, at night when most were asleep- this particular one being in the large hall she'd held her rally in. They were incredibly crude little spying devices, barely more than static-crackling microphones crammed in inconspicuous places and hooked to her trackerpad's speakers... but they did the job. She didn't have an Imp, but she _did_ have a science lab and a lot of people with something to prove.

She listened in, jumping from microphone to microphone, picking up conversations thought secret or hidden, eavesdropping on her troops. The talk was always of one of two subjects- the food, and her. Praise for the food was universal; praise for her, nearly so. A few expressed doubts, and she wrote down names on a little notepad when she heard them of those who doubted, but for the most part, it seemed that the new flavors and gifts she'd brought had settled both stomachs and minds.

It wouldn't be enough without victories. The feeling of the rally would fade in time, and in the face of reality... but it was helping. It was... it was like her, Adora realized. She'd slapped a band-aid over her cracked skull... just like the Horde was using its faith in her to cover its weakness.

...Shame all this pressure was on her shoulders now...

“ Hey, you want a shoulder massage? It always helps Rogelio relax,” Kyle offered, after having been silent for the last few minutes.

“ Making a move on me, Kyle?” Adora said, amused. “ And shoulder massages! Rather soft of you. I should reprimand a Horde soldier for such weakness. Or tell Rogelio you're trying to cheat on him.”

“ Not if you want a massage,” Kyle teased right back. He really _had_ grown brave in the last three years; he trusted her, didn't get sent running or into a panic over her words. “ And Rogelio knows I've got no interest in girls. Now, if you were a _dude_ , maybe, but otherwise no... though I'm not sure what your hair poofie would look like as a guy.”

“ It'd be enormous,” Adora said, keeping one ear on the trackerpad's sounds even as they talked. “ I'd make it gigantic, grow it out like a full foot-”

“ That's a mental image I just have to live with now,” Kyle said. “ But... seriously, I'm offering. You seem like you might explode, or something, and Lonnie told me and Rogelio to look after you. I don't know how to help with anything else, but I can do massages alright.”

“... I think I'd like one,” Adora admitted, and Kyle's hands, soft and weak as they were, proved warm and soothing as he pressed them to the knots and tensions in her back, Adora leaning forward to accommodate him.

( Her hand kept writing down those who doubted her. She kept listening, even as Kyle eased her aches; Shadow Weaver had raised her poorly, but trained her well.)

After a few moments of this, Lonnie's voice cut into the warm haze of her loosening muscles.

“ Kyle, I told you to guard her back- you can't do that if you're busy putting your grubby hands all over it.”

Kyle jerked away from her.

“ Lonnie! When did you get here?!?”

“ A full minute ago. I figured you weren't watching Adora good enough, so I came along.”

“ Aren't you supposed to be running security?” Adora said, focusing her trackerpad on the microphone that would have been closest to Lonnie's guardpost.

“ I was, but I passed the job off so I could come up here,” Lonnie said, taking a nearby chair and plopping down near her boss. “ Anything juicy?”

“ Nothing major, just a few doubters,” Adora replied. “ Nothing warranting more than a bit of surveillance.”

“ Good,” Lonnie said. “ I've got some people I trust, I'll stick them to watching. Glad our little show worked.”

“ Mmhmm,” Adora said. “ Me too.”

Silence reigned a minute, quiet except for the crackling tones of the trackerpad's stolen conversations, until Lonnie spoke up.

“ Hey, Kyle, I wouldn't mind a massage.”

“ Heh, okay,” Kyle said, and soon Lonnnie was being reduced to putty in his hands.

Rogelio joined them later, as the party wound down, the Horde's cadets still excited- still waiting to see what new world Adora would make- if their leader could deliver on her promises. Talk throughout all the Fright Zone was optimistic, looking forward to the future for the first time since Hordak died.

They wanted Adora to lead them to glory.

_I will_ , Adora promised them in her heart of hearts, as she listened in on them... on her _people._ Born a First One, she was bred to be a Hordesman... and she would stick by them. She had betrayed everyone else and every _thing_ else in her life. She had betrayed Catra by being evil (or, perhaps, Catra had betrayed _her_ by being _good_ , a thought Adora rather liked.) She had betrayed Shadow Weaver to advance her own agenda in the Horde. She had betrayed Hordak by flipping the portal switch when he told her not to, and he had died for it... and she had always been _planning_ to betray him.

She betrayed Scorpia and Entrapta and... and even her squad, she had betrayed all of them, just so she could get a win over Catra at last, so she could silence the beating pain in her heart and the four words that burned her, _You're a First One._

_Please_ , she prayed, to whatever forces in the universe might grant the prayers of tyrants and monsters, _keep me from betraying the Horde, too._

-

Octavia chewed the good food, soft sweet cake, and sighed. Today had been a _good_ day.

“ Okay,” Grizzlor admitted, walking off with a hunk of deer leg. “ The new boss at least can talk a good game... and this feast ain't half bad.”

Dreer laughed, the thin, frail Mystacoran on his fourth plate. “ I'll say! Haven't eaten like this in _years!_ ”

Mantenna said nothing, merely raised a toast with his cup of wine, one of _many_ he'd had.

A soldier dared approach, and such was the Captains' joint good mood that they let them.

“ Captain?” the Hordesman said to Octavia. “ Me and the crew were wondering- what does this mean? Her changing our symbol, having us eat all this... strange stuff. What's it mean?”

Octavia thought it over.

“ I think...” she said, surprising even herself as she said it, “ that it's a sign of change coming- good change, if I don't miss my guess. I think it's a sign the new boss has her shit together.”

The soldier, satisfied, nodded as he took a bite of something called an apple, and Octavia leaned back and sighed.

Good change... yeah, she could get used to this.

-

That night, Adora dreams.

Catra, first, and their kiss in Mara's ship.

(The taste of Catra on her lips, she kissed her and it was blood and salt and sweat and Catra's teeth, too sharp, she cut herself to ribbons trying to kiss her. Of course. Adora is so unworthy of Catra that she cannot even kiss her without being wounded; she is a moth to the flame, to catch what she wants of Catra would burn her alive. Catra's fire is so pure, and Adora's so false; when they touch, the illusion breaks, and only the true flame of Catra survives. Her tongue traces the scars on her lips, touches them with its own scars; Catra had kissed her to shreds.)

The left side of her body, burning up, the light, the light, the light...

And... far off in the distance... something she not only saw, but felt. A purer and more terrible light, she can sense it coming... something green as new shoots of spring, something as pure white as clean bone.

Something that is _kin_ of hers. Kin, and in a deeper way than the shapeshifter she just hired; he is light, too. He is no little gleam but a **light** , he approaches, and some part of her thrills, recognizing the lie of him, the lie so big that he is convincing the universe to believe it... and the wiser part of her panics.

If Adora is a wildfire than this is the Sun, it is out there, _he is out there and he sees all, knows all..._

Adora woke up screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy SHIT, S5 was so good! 
> 
> I'm going to continue this until I'm done with the whole thing. All 5 seasons, woohoo!
> 
> A note on the Force Captains:
> 
> Grizzlor and Octavia are in the show, though Grizzlor's role was so minor I'd nearly forgotten he was actually in the show. Octavia, of course, has an episode in season 4. Grizzlor is a Force Captain for general work, Octavia for sea operations.
> 
> Mantenna is from the original She-Ra show; there, he was more of a bug/cyborg mantis guy, but here, he's the same species as Flutterina. He was originally a cyborg engineer interested in First One's tech, until his desire to merge machine and flesh made him less a tinkerer and more of a Frankenstein type. His mechanical eyes can see in multiple wavelength,s and are of his own design; he's never managed to get a pair to work for anyone but a Lunoth. He runs intelligence operations.
> 
> Dreer is also from the original She-Ra show; he was a one-off character, a Duke who worked for the Horde and had some magic. Here, he was originally a Mystacoran mage, but he was kicked out for attempting to learn forbidden magic- and having learned from the Shadow Weaver incident, they blocked his magic with a curse after kicking him. He's mad as hell about this, and hopes to regain his spells one day. He is officially just another Captain, but unofficially is the main "hey, we think magic's involved, go poke it" guy, because Shadow Weaver never had the time to do that, and now he's the only one with real practical experience with magic left.


	4. Scorpia of Beast Island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy folks!
> 
> I raised the chapter number because I feel like doing shorter chapters than I have been doing. Some chapters just straight up require me to write a lot of words- chapter 1, for example, has a clear ending point, and Adora of the Horde did, too- but trying to cram everything into one final chapter was getting silly.
> 
> So I'm going to finish Season 4 with several shorter chapters than originally planned. Then I'll move on to Season 5 and the completion of the epic saga of Catra of Brightmoon with the next fic, tentatively titled Catra and Adora of the Universe. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the ride!

**Scorpia of Beast Island**

Beast Island is the _worst_ place Scorpia has ever been.

The transport does not actually reach the island, but fires her off in a one-way, one-use capsule. It's a transport straight to hell; the capsule hits the beach and pops open, and it just sits there, scattered alongside a long mess of similar transports, the spent shells and discarded cartridges of living ammo. Scorpia takes a few steps out, and debates just setting up on the beach- it seems safe enough, and she's not comfortable just charging in- not with the reputation this place has. Beast Island is described in terms approaching the apocalyptic, and Scorpia, for all that she's no genius, is not a fool, either.

At that point, the beach reveals that it is home to octopi whose tentacles are _also_ snakes, and only Scorpia's exoskeleton saves her, fleeing as a few poisonous fangs break on her chitin; dumb luck it didn't strike the parts of her that were flesh.

Scorpia fled, deeper into the woods- and that... didn't improve anything. Monkeys, or something _akin_ to monkeys, attacked her... a swarm of them, hordes. Teeth and hands, biting, clawing, they are all over her and Scorpia has just enough time to be grateful for her natural advantages, her pincers crushing and smashing, her stinger tail lashing out. Monkey-abominations die, but not fast enough, she's getting swarmed, her frantic attacks are barely keeping them off of her most vulnerable parts.

She yells for help as she fights, even knowing none is coming- this is Beast Island. No one is here, that's the common knowledge...

But just as the monkeys nearly land a fatal bite on her throat, they are blasted away, because the common knowledge is _wrong_.

There is _one_ person on Beast Island; and with a wave of magic, he saves her life, wiping the monkeys away from her.

“ Hey!” he says. He is a shaggy, _shaggy_ human, and he looks... umm... like he's not doing very well, and hasn't for some time. “ You're new!”

“ I just got here,” Scorpia says to the man.

“ I've never imagined a scorpionfolk before!” the wild man cheerfully goes on, face split with a wide grin.

“ I don't think I'm imaginary,” Scorpia replies, and rubs at a sore spot on her body where a monkey's gripping hand had managed to get flesh. “ Wouldn't hurt so bad if I was, I imagine.”

“ Oh man,” the wild man answers, eyes wide as he looks to the side, and speaks with people who aren't there. “ Imaginations having imaginations. Now _that's_ a thought. Wish my Angie could hear that shit. Oh, but I shouldn't cuss. I'm a new father. Don't want Glimmer cursing. Angie'd blame me.”

“ I... uhh?” Scorpia says, and the man giggles- a little bit like how Adora giggles.

( Adora. There are few people the kind and good-natured Scorpia hates- but Adora's on the list. Traitorous blonde jackass with her stupid hair poof thing!)

“ Anyway, we have to go, or the false-head snakes will kill us!” the stranger tells her cheerfully, taking off.

With no other choice, Scorpia follows behind.

-

In Brightmoon, Scorpia walked to her room, another day over with- time for sleep.

Well... it wasn't _quite_ Scorpia.

Double Trouble, wearing Scorpia's skin, thought things were going pretty well. Entry had been surprisingly easy. The Alliance's forces just happening to “find” Scorpia with the other prisoners- with self-same woman claiming she'd been escaping and got caught outside Elberon- was a coincidence, but not so much of one as to be unbelievable. They knew Scorpia had been betrayed by Adora, and it is not a surprise that she might head west, with the Horde no longer friendly.

Scorpia had been concerned about Catra, initially. Half of Adora's ranting when she'd been giving Doule Trouble their mission had been about the Magicat, which indicated some rather deeper relationship... perhaps the rumors were true, and they had been lovers, once. It would certainly explain the impassioned fury and strange longing that laced all Adora's words.

But Catra hadn't really paid any attention on the way back to “Scorpia”, her focus on the archer, Elberon, and the brat they'd picked up. Her interactions with them were... illuminating.

With Bow she'd seemed so apologetic, so... _ashamed_. Half their conversation had been her asking him if he was okay, and then apologizing for falling for the Horde trap that got him caught.

( Bow had waved it off with good humor and an acceptance that no one was perfect. DT marked him down as dangerous. A man that honest and friendly was impossible to manipulate, there were no handles in his heart by which another person might pick him up; like all spies, DT had learned that the most dangerous foe was a truly good person, for no manipulation could move them an inch from where they stood.)

Before they left Elberon, Catra had apologized to the mayor directly for failing them, and complimented her on having more sense than she did. The townspeople had shrugged it off, pointing out that even She-Ra couldn't be everywhere- she'd come back, and apparently that was enough for Elberon, that she had not abandoned them in their distress. They had forgiven her.

Then, with the kid, she'd been so patient... but that had been with effort, DT could almost _hear_ Catra's gears grinding as she tried not to snap the kid when she got too hyper. Flutterina was a handful, and seemed oddly self-aware about it, but her hero worship for She-Ra was so strong she couldn't bear to be away from her for too long. It was annoying the hell out of Catra.

Yet for all that, Catra had never once yelled at the kid, despite it being so _obvious_ she wanted to... but despite that, she'd fight it off, each time. She'd reprimand her when she went too far or crossed a line, but her tone was, with effort, gentle.

Catra was apparently not a patient person by instinct, but instincts weren't all a person had; they had a choice, too, and Catra kept making that choice, even if she had to fight for it every time.

Double Trouble wondered, idly, what would make her _lose_ that fight, and only long practice kept a sadistic grin off their stolen face. Catra was going to be so much _fun!_ Like Adora, a little bit, though obviously much more mentally healthy and stable; they both struggled to be the people they thought they should be. The difference, of course, being their end- goals; Adora sought to hurl herself off the cliff of monstrosity, Catra was determined to climb the mountain of virtue.

Why, between the two of them, DT was absolutely _spoiled_ for fun characters to play with!

Still, once they got to the Castle, Catra proved as dangerous as Adora's obsession made her out to be. The others weren't much trouble. Knowing that the Alliance only knew a few things about Scorpia, Double Trouble had settled on a firm characterization for Scorpia that would fit with what they knew- big, dumb, friendly, Horde-loyal (which Scorpia had adjusted to be _Hordak_ -loyal, explaining their defection), had a thing for Catra she was entirely unashamed of.

The Princesses bought it, hook, line, and sinker, though the Hordak-loyalty made them a bit wary. Good. The less time spent interacting with Double Trouble, the easier the disguise was to maintain. It'd be easier if it was someone they didn't know at all- someone they'd trust instinctively, a little pink thing like that Lunoth brat they'd picked up in Elberon- but Scorpia was _almost_ unknown enough that it still worked.

Entrapta might be a problem- she'd known Scorpia better- but DT had prepared by telling a sob story to the princesses about Scorpia getting the crap kicked out of her while escaping the Fright Zone, and how she'd lost some of her memory after a particularly hard blow to the head from Grizzlor. A flimsy cover... but the weak shield hadn't been tested yet. Entrapta wasn't here, which was a relief. She apparently didn't leave the Crypto Castle much these days.

DT didn't know why and didn't care; it made their job easier.

No, the Princesses- save the weird flower girl, who wanted to connect with her for reasons probably related to how her eyes never left Scorpia's muscles- mostly kept a polite, if friendly, distance from the loyal soldier.

But Catra... once Catra had settled down, no longer ashamed of what had happened in Elberon to her friend... she'd gotten... suspicious.

She knew something was up, but she didn't know _what._ Catra kept going near “Scorpia”, at least, when her duties watching over their newest recruit- who'd _absolutely_ endeared herself to all the other Princesses, being small, pink, and loud, to Double Trouble's general distaste- but she seemed... hesitant... to say anything to anyone.

It was Bow who'd explained it, when Double Trouble asked why Catra was so odd around her (disguising it by asking if Catra found her interest abhorrent.)

Catra had apparently made a promise- to Hordak, of all people!- to keep Scorpia safe, and so now she was struggling between instincts that shouted not to trust Scorpia, and her own duty to uphold her promise to a dead man.

The conflict there- the drama! _Delicious_.

Double Trouble headed back to their room, and went to sleep with a smile on their face.

-

Adora sat on her throne and read over the latest report from Double Trouble, a quick text message sent across trackerpad. They hadn't had an opportunity to send video yet; Catra was exactly as dangerous an enemy as Adora had told the spy, she suspected something was up. Double Trouble had been playing up Scorpia's hurt feelings of rejection to justify avoiding her, but suspected they'd have to abort the mission early.

That was fine. They'd already sent invaluable data; if they could just distract the Rebellion a little longer, Adora would consider the money she'd paid the spy worth it.

She read over one particularly funny line, and snickered. Double Trouble certainly had a way with words; she should almost pay extra.

“ Adora,” came a voice from the hall. The Horde's new commander looked up from her seat.

“ Yeah, Lonnie?”

“ Wanna show you something,” said that same Force Captain, approaching her. “ I had an idea, you see.”

“ Oh?” Adora said, putting her trackerpad down. She'd finish reading that later; if Lonnie was interrupting her, it was probably worth it. “ What about?”

“ Well, you know our plan to deal with the Woods?” Lonnie said.

“ Yeah, I came up with it,” Adora said, grinning at her friend. She summoned a small flame into her hand. “ You spot a problem with it?”

“ No, just a way that tech can help your magic,” Lonnie said, as Adora dismissed the flame. “ We lost a lot of troops- but there's an unexpected upside.”

Lonnie nodded behind her, and Rogelio, concealed in shadows until that moment, hauled over a fuel tank- but there was something odd about it. Someone- probably Adora's science lab guys- had attached what looked like a hose to the end, and at the end of that hose was a handle, shaped like...

“ Is that my dragon symbol?” Adora asked, quirking the eyebrow over her eyepatch.

( She'd tried quirking the eyebrow over her right eye- and found she couldn't. It baffled her. You'd think you could raise either eyebrow but apparently it worked like handedness for Adora!)

“ Yep!” Lonnie said. “ I didn't tell the tech guys to do that, but hey, here we are. See, all those troops leaving means that we, ironically, have a surplus of fuel around the Fright Zone. Most of those that ran didn't take trucks or skiffs, they just booked it on their own boots. Anyway, I thought, hey, gotta be a way we can use all that fuel. I mean, keeping some backup stock is great, but it does you no good if you don't use it, right?”

“ So what's this do then?” Adora asked. Lonnie grinned.

“ I'm calling it a flamethrower.”

“ Now that,” Adora admitted, “ sounds _promising._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I did some quick research before this chapter and realized we see no flamethrowers in She-Ra and the Princesses of Power before this point, though in the old She-Ra series, we see Hordak use a flamethrower at least once. She-Ra trivia at its finest!
> 
> (For those who are curious: I love the old show for what it is, but find that SPOP blows it out of the water in many ways. That's fine; children should surpass their parents. That's natural.)


	5. Kyle of Lord Adora's Horde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A battle sequence! Catra gets to discover that Lord Adora's Horde fights a bit differently than it used to...

**Kyle of Lord Adora's Horde**

It was supposed to be so simple.

Scouts came back with the information. The Horde was transporting some new weapon- which they'd gotten a hold of somehow- through the Whispering Woods. If it got to the Fright Zone, who knew what terrible use Adora would make of it?

But if is a _powerful_ word.

Catra got a team together, pulling on the informal, mish-mosh strings of the Alliance's rag-tag militia system to get a group. Bow was up for it, and Glimmer had finally recovered enough to go back into the field. Warbands in the area responded, howling for a chance to strike at the Horde and serve the She-Ra all at once, and soon the Best Friend Squad had two dozen volunteers for back-up, alongside Netossa and Spinnerella, who had been in Brightmoon when the news came down. They even had a Troll, one of that reclusive race of giants, who had somehow come out of the spikey heart of their distant and forbidding homeland to fight the Horde, despite the general mistrust between them and the smaller races.

This eclectic group sat down in Brightmoon's war room, mapped out the convoy's most likely path, and laid out the simple plan- wait for the convoy, ambush it, and steal or destroy the weapon.

No problem. It was the same stuff they'd already pulled dozens of times. They reached the ambush point a day beforehand and got ready. The scouts reported the convoy was on its way before scattering to form a perimeter, making a loose circle around them to make sure the ambush didn't get ambushed itself.

Flutterina was one of those scouts, and had saluted Catra before she left at her usual blistering pace; to Catra's own surprise, Flutterina had discipline worthy of a Horde soldier, so determined to prove herself that she was able to keep a lid even on her boundless energy. Catra wondered what drove the small one so hard... or how she was able to move under the weight of her enormous, bright pink backpack.

Apparently Flutterina had decided that, since her utility in an actual fight was fairly low, she could at least serve as a pack mule, and she'd spent the time in Brightmoon cajoling everyone with her cuteness into giving her stuff to fill the backpack with. The backpack itself was a gift from Netossa, of all people; a leatherworker had owed her a favor, and she'd convinced the woman to make the backpack, which was a great lumbering monstrosity as tall as Flutterina was, and seemed entirely bottomless when Catra looked inside it.

Still, Flutterina carried it without complaint, and Catra's opinion of the little trooper continued to rise. A damn fine soldier, she'd say if she was a Force Captain- though she could not imagine what her life would be like, if she was on the Horde's side still.

( If nothing else, she would not have Angella for a mother, and the warmth of that thought was a happy fire in her heart.)

When word reached them- through Flutterina- that the target approached, Catra's fur went up. One truck? Just _one_? That wasn't right; information said there were more, alongside bots and troopers too.

“ Do you want me to go back?” Flutterina asked, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“ No, stay til the ambush is done,” Catra said. “ You can tell the scouts our mission was a success and get them to come back afterwards.”

Flutterina saluted again, like a nervous tic. She took up position in a tree, easily leaping up the branches despite her backpack's weight, while Catra and her bushwhackers made ready... though it all felt like overkill now, for just one truck.

One truck, through the Whispering Woods... no, something was wrong. Bad wrong.

The truck showed up, and Spinnerella knocked it off its wheels easily enough. The driver leapt out, not even making a token defense, just running and screaming before Netossa got him, pinning him upside down on a nearby tree.

_I mean, the Horde's on its last legs, but still,_ Catra thought.

Catra approached the back carefully.

“ Be cautious,” she ordered her troops. She'd already screwed up in Elberon, she wasn't screwing up now. “ Keep your guard up! We don't know _what_ is in that truck.”

“ Could be bombs,” Bow said. “ Like Mara's ship.”

“ Good point. Everyone, stay back!” Catra commanded. “ I'll poke my head in first. Not like a few bombs'll do much more than scratch my armor.”

“ Happy to,” Glimmer said. “ Had enough of being exploded to last a lifetime.”

“ Be careful,” Bow said to Catra, and she gave him a smile. She'd be fine. She-Ra could take it.

With the Sword and her transformation on her, Catra took one strong hand of claws, and with the five swords she was born with, tore the back of the truck off.

...Nothing. It was empty.

“ Nothing here,” she said, right as the invisible robot inside shot her in the face.

“ Invisible bot!” Bow yelled. “ Just like Elberon!”

“ Forgot about the invisible bots!” Catra yelled as she swung blindly, her eyes stinging from the laser blast even past She-Ra's supernatural toughness. A scream of metal resounded- she hit _something-_ she swung again and again, until the laser blasts stopped.

She swiped at the inside again, but no more attacks were coming, and she took the time to blink the blindness out of her eyes, rubbing with the back of her free hand. Laughter- _familiar_ laughter- rang out from their trapped driver.

“ Hey, that's- isn't that one of Adora's guys?” Glimmer asked. Catra, still blinking, gave a closer ear to the laughter.

“ ... _Kyle?_ ” she said, and the laughter increased for a moment before silencing.

“ Yep!” he said, wriggling in the net and managing to pull his helmet off so he could glare at her. “ How'd you like that? What you deserve, traitor!”

Catra, on reflex, rolled her eyes- and paid for it, her orbs _ached_.

“ Gah!” she said. “ Oh, this _hurts..._ Kyle, shut up. Anybody got eye drops?”

“ Right here,” Flutterina said, taking off her backpack and withdrawing a small glass potion bottle. “ Never leave home without a full medical kit!”

“ Bag's big enough to hold three,” Bow opined in quiet respect as the little girl hoisted the great monstrosity back on.

“ You're a saint, Flutterina,” Catra said, popping the bottle open and carefully putting a few drops in her right eye.

Glimmer, meanwhile, gave her best go at interrogating Kyle.

“ Tell us why Adora's moving one invisible bot through the woods,” she said.

“ No,” he said.

...Well, shit.

“ ...Okay, I'm out of ideas,” Glimmer admitted. “ How about I just punch him until answers come out?”

“ He's a POW, we don't torture,” Catra reminded her as she started pouring drops into her left eye too. “ If you don't have rules for warfare, you're not a civilization, you're a band of thugs. Also, torture doesn't work; people will tell you anything to get the pain to stop.”

“ Mom gave me that exact lecture once too,” Glimmer said, and Catra chuckled.

“ I know, I was in the room when she gave it. That's why I'm repeating it. Older sister has to keep you in line, you know.”

“ You can't be the older sister!” Glimmer said, indignant. “ You're adopted! That makes you the little sister by default!”

Catra laughed as the entire ambush group pondered that.

“ That's not how that works, I think?” Flutterina said cautiously. “ Isn't it still about age? I must admit, never thought about it before.”

“ Oldest is oldest, adopted or not,” one of the lizard folk in the ambush squad said. “ I mean, I'm pretty sure, that's how we do it in Plumeria anyway.”

“ Oh, I didn't know you were Plumerian,” his satyr friend said.

“ Yep!” the bushwhacker said, and a group of them descended into discussion of their mutual homelands and adoption law. The Troll listened impassively, leaning up against a tree with massive mace in hand, shield propped up on a different tree, both works of intricately carved geometric art.

( Glimmer thought they looked vaguely like the magic runes Mystacor used... but Trolls had never been in Mystacor, their retreat from the rest of Etheria predated Mystacor's founding.)

“ How old are you, anyway?” Bow asked Catra. “ Just realized I've known you three years, but I actually don't know how old you are.”

“ Probably because I don't know,” Catra said, blinking rapidly as the medicine soothed her sore eyeballs. “ Shadow Weaver didn't exactly keep up with my birthdays, and... I've always kind of assumed I was about Adora's age? I mean, we aged at about the same rate. I'm not even sure how long I'll live, to be honest with you.”

“ Magicats have weird lifespans,” Glimmer said. “ You guys age like humans do, but sometimes you hit old age and just like, stay? There are records of magicats living for hundreds of years, but they got old first. It's like you advance so far and just stop. It's not common but it _does_ happen. Kind of the same thing that happens to really magical Twiggets sometimes.”

“ That explains Madam Razz, at least,” Catra said. They'd finally positively identified her species a week ago, though she kept wandering the halls being... Madam Razz. “ Wait, how do you know this? The hell is a Magicat?”

“ That's you, dumbass,” Glimmer said with a laugh. “ Well, at least that's what Etherians call you- some of the really old records from the First Ones I found called you guys Thunderians? Not sure what that's about. Anyway, I did some research after your adoption. Your people mostly live in the farthest East; you had an underground kingdom called Halfmoon- no relation to Brightmoon, to my surprise- but the Horde conquered it about two decades ago, give or take. You're probably an orphan from that conquest.”

“ Are there... others?” Catra asked, and Glimmer nodded.

“ We assume so. We don't really know much about it, and I don't know why you'd be the only Magicat taken- that area's deep in Horde territory. Last information our spies could figure out, the area suffered multiple rebellions- apparently the Force Captain in charge spends almost all of his time just keeping the region quiet, some Lunoth captain named Mantenna.”

“ He's a jerk,” Flutterina tossed into the conversation. “ Heard about him from the mayor. Weird guy, obsessed with replacing meat with machine. Got telescope eyes or something.”

“ Yeah, I've met him,” Catra said. “ It's worse than it sounds- if he runs the area full of my people, maybe that's why he kept glaring at me whenever he was in the Fright Zone.”

Catra blinked one last time, and sighed as relief filled her eyes. “ Thanks,” Catra said, as she popped the cap back on and handed what was left of the eyedrops back to her biggest fan. “ Here, small one.”

“ No-trouble!” Flutterina said in a giddy burst, putting the eyedrops back in her pink monstrosity. “ Glad-to-help!”

“ So I'm a Magicat,” Catra mused. “ Never cared too much about my race, just... I mean, I didn't know I _had_ a race up until literally just now.”

“ Wait, really?” Bow asked, and she nodded.

“ I always figured I was a one-off, unique... alone, if I'm being honest,” Catra said, telling her friends thoughts she'd had in the long, quiet darkness of the Fright Zone, when she had to hide from Shadow Weaver or the other cadets. “ It never occurred to me to wonder what my race was, or if I had a homeland... I mean, hell, Shadow Weaver named me _Catra_ , there wasn't a whole lot of effort put into me, you know? I always thought maybe I'd come to life in one of her experiments or something. A witch's familiar that got overgrown, or a failed homunculus or something.”

“ Really?” Glimmer said. “ Shadow Weaver didn't even tell you where you're from? Shit.”

“ How have you known her for three years and are just now talking about this?” Kyle asked, his tone a little delirious. “ And oh, First Ones, I'm upside down and there is _so much blood_ in my head.”

“ Oh yeah, forgot about you,” Glimmer said, turning back to her prisoner. “ Hey, sis, if I can't punch him for information, can I punch him just because I want to?”

“ I... Glimmer, that's _worse_ ,” Catra said. “ Besides, it's just Kyle. Leave him for a moment; he'll be okay a bit longer. There has to be something more going on here; the Horde wouldn't transport just one invisible robot.”

“ Yeah, it doesn't make sense,” Bow said. “ It's not like it was some super version or prototype; it was just a standard invisible robot.”

“ We live really weird lives when you can say that,” Glimmer commented, as Catra nodded to the tech master.

“ True....” Catra frowned. “ Let's see if the scouts saw anything else- Flutterina, go tell them the mission was a success, see what's up.”

“ Got it!” she said, and tore off. Catra turned to their prisoner.

“ I'm going to cut you free, Kyle,” Catra said, gently. It didn't come naturally; she wanted to gloat... but Princesses of Brightmoon did not gloat over their fallen foes. That wasn't what a _good_ person did, and _definitely_ not what the Best Princess did; and she had been doing this for three years. It made it a little easier, to be good, it added the weight of habit to her choice. “ Don't run or do anything stupid, okay? I don't want to see you hurt.”

“ Then why did you join the Alliance?!?” Kyle asked her, as she quickly cut him free of Netossa's web, putting a hand on him so he wouldn't fall and turning him upright.

“ Steady,” she said as he wobbled on his feet, putting one hand on his shoulder. He tried to shrug it off, but the motion itself almost sent him to the ground, so he begrudgingly accepted her help. “ Easy now. Just stand still, it'll end soon enough.”

“ When Adora kills you I'm going to throw a party,” he murmured.

“ She's not managed it yet,” Catra said... then, helplessly, “ How is she?”

“ Adora?” Kyle muttered, blinking as the dizziness slowly started to filter out of his skull. “ Burned and hurt and mad as hell at you, and holding the whole Horde together single-handedly. She's a hero and you're out here fighting your own people...”

“ My people,” Catra said to him, “ are in _Brightmoon_. The Magicat thing's interesting, but Brightmoon's my home.”

Glimmer smiled at her before turning a glare on Kyle. “ That's right. And even if it wasn't, her people's home would be Halfmoon, and it, too, is attacked by the Horde, so you're wrong _twice_.”

“ Your own homeland was conquered by them, Kyle- the Horde takes all the land it owns, it is not your people either,” Catra said. “ The Horde was nobody's homeland except Hordak's, and he's dead now. There's no _point_ to the war continuing with Hordak dead.”

“ Whatever,” Kyle said, shaking his head. “ Traitor.”

Before the conversation could continue, the ambushers heard familiar, high-pitched yelling.

“ We're under attack!”

The ambushers turned, saw Flutterina, running pell-mell at them, little legs carrying her at unbelievable speed, great pink backpack wobbling with tremendous force as she blitzed towards them.

“ Invisible bots!” she announced. “ Everywhere! And other bots behind them but something's wrong with them, they keep exploding! The scouts were pinned down; I distracted the bots so they're moving, but it's a huge group! Invisible trucks, too, all full of Hordesmen! Horde-troopers-with-some-new-thing-that-throws-fire! I ran the whole circle around us, everyone's under attack, we're-surrounded, there's-nowhere-to-run!”

“ What?” Catra yelled. “ Where are the other scouts?”

“ Coming up behind me! Err, from all directions too! Get ready, there's a lot of wounded, and there's lots of bad guys behind them!” Flutterina yelled, skidding to a stop near the Best Friend Squad, flapping her wings rapidly to bring herself to a halt.

“ How do you know how many _invisible_ bots we're facing?” Glimmer asked.

“ Lots of laser coming out of nowhere!” Flutterina announced. “ I counted! I'm-not-just-fast-on-my- _feet_! And a few dozen of the roll-up-and-blow-up kind! Couldn't count the Hordesman burning stuff though, too-much-fire!”

“ I don't like... any of that,” Catra admitting, before turning to address her squad in louder, more authoritative tones.. “ Okay, everyone, if you're not a healer, into the trees! Attacks are going to be coming from all directions, so we need to get above them, it'll give them fewer angles to attack us from. Form up a rough circle- we have to cover every area! We can't escape right now, so we'll just have to fight it out and wait for an opportunity to run!”

“ Bow,” she said, “ can you hack them?”

“ I'll try,” he said, pulling out his trackerpad.

“ What about us?” Netossa asked.

“ You guys wait a moment,” Catra said. “ Need a place for the healers to work in safety...”

She glanced around, and her eyes fell on the truck, as the rest of the ambush squad followed her orders, moving into place around the clearing.

“ The truck'll work,” she announced. “ Use the bed, we'll stuff the wounded in there- it's protected from most angles. Big guy!”

“ Yes?” the Troll rumbled.

“ Hate to ask you to get shot,” she said, “ but you're big enough to guard the open door of the truck, and too big to get into a tree. The truck'll protect your back, and the shield'll protect your front- if you got something to throw or shoot, that'll help too.”

“ No need,” he rumbled. “ I have magic.”

He raised a hand and a shining glyph appeared for proof.

“ Did you go to Mystacor?” Glimmer asked, and the Troll laughed.

“ There are more schools of magic than one, princess,” he said as he lumbered to the truck's back.

At about that time, the scouts caught up, weary and haggard and hurt.

“ Invisible... bots! We're under... attack,” one panted, a Lunoth who had run up and was now gasping for air. Behind him, the healthy scouts were hauling the wounded, whose injuries were numerous: legs scorched by laser fire, burns on arms and chests where shots hit flesh and not armor, and one poor woman who had taken a blast on the chin and had her face seared.

“ So we heard,” Glimmer drawled as she ran over to help move the wounded. “ Come on, into the back of the truck. I've got you- we've got healers. If you're able to still fight, follow my sister's lead, up into the trees and form a circle!”

The rest of the Best Friend squad went over to help- including Flutterina, who couldn't help haul people into the truck's relative safety, but _did_ have a multitude of medical equipment in her great rucksack that she freely shared with their healers.

Hauling the wounded to something like safety had a sense of desperation- the ambush group couldn't _see_ the bots, but they could _hear_ them, and the sheer number of whirring servos and clanking legs they heard coming indicated a vast army... and behind it, the first crackling noises of a great fire, just now starting.

“ Great ambush I've planned,” Catra muttered. “ Now _we're_ getting ambushed.”

“ Ain't dead yet,” Glimmer grunted, as she let the last of the wounded off her shoulder. “ Focus on getting us out of here.”

“ Fair enough,” Catra said. “ Flutterina, you said they had a weapon that throws fire?”

“ Yes! They're-burning-the-trees, they're-burning-everything!”

... _That's actually a good idea on Adora's part,_ Catra thought. The Woods had been a shield for the Rebellion from the start- if the Horde just burned the whole damn forest, though, there wouldn't be anywhere to hide. It sounded like Adora; cunning by brute force.

“ Anything else different about the Hordesmen with the flame-throwing weapons?”

“ Heavily-armored!” Flutterina said. “ Doesn't look as pretty or smooth as Horde armor usually does, but there's-more-of-it!”

“ Probably insulation against the fire,” Bow said, as he fiddled with his trackerpad. “ Though how they're burning so much of the forest without cooking themselves, I don't know. Convection is a thing...”

“ Any luck hacking the bots?” Catra asked her tech master. “ Or hell, even just finding them?”

“ No,” he said. “ I can detect their network but I'm not getting anywhere. Entrapta's analysis of that bot we captured at Elberon was right- the Horde's new tech guys are so incompetent that, ironically, their code is almost impossible to break. It's half-functional and jury-rigged; Entrapta's as surprised as I am that the bots are functioning at all... but it also means it doesn't make enough sense to parse out.”

“ Wait, the Horde being _incompetent_ made them tougher?!?” Glimmer asked in angry disbelief.

“ That's-bullshit,” Flutterina blurted out, hopping from nervous energy.

“ You can't cuss, you're a baby!” Glimmer retorted.

“ Anybody got blankets or paint or something we can throw on them?” Catra yelled. Negative responses rang out, Flutterina looking particularly pained; she hadn't thought to bring anything like that. Even the all-holding backpack had weaknesses.

Glimmer, meanwhile, had an idea, but didn't speak up, working out the math first.

“ Okay,” Catra said, biting her lip in frustration before turning to the two princesses. “ Netossa, Spinnerella- you guys use big, wide attacks, okay? Just... start hurling the biggest shots you can once the bots start firing at us. You'll hit _something._ You guys have the most power here, you'll be doing a lot of the heavy lifting.”

The married duo nodded, though Netossa sighed. “ This is gonna make counting kills a _bitch..._ ”

_“ Counting-kills?!?_ ” Flutterina growled indignantly as she glared at the Princess of Sealing Light, the effect not unlike a very offended pug. “ Take-this-seriously!”

“ I am _dead serious_ about my kill count,” Netossa responded, offended.

“ Honey, let's... let's just get into position,” Spinnerella said, lifting her wife up on a tornado and depositing her in a tree that had a good field of vision, before the Princess of the Four Winds took up a spot nearby to support her wife.

“ Counting kills...” Flutterina said, shaking her head.

“ Hey, I have an idea,” Glimmer said. “ I might have a spell for it. There's a spell that makes your target tell the truth- Shadow Weaver taught me. I think I can modify it? It might reveal the bots.”

_Shadow Weaver..? I'll need to talk to her about that,_ Catra thought, but dismissed it for the moment. “ I'd rather not use anything she's touched, but we don't have many great options. Go for it.”

That was when the first shots started to rain down on them, the invisible bots and their slow march finally catching up to the main group.

“ Party's starting!” Catra said, forming the Sword into a shield and taking a stand besides her sister. Spinnerella started hurling twisters into the crowd, the sounds confirming she was hitting _something_ , even as Netossa complained that those kills didn't count from her hiding place nearby, her own nets raining down and taking out bots. Bow launched exploding arrows that hit groups entire, in between repeated efforts to try and subvert the bots with his trackerpad; Flutterina, meanwhile, kept watch, her mouth an endless running steam of information keeping Catra up to date on how the entire Rebel force was doing.

The militia fought hard, arrows, stones and javelins raining down from the trees, alongside a few laser blasts from stolen Horde guns; it was a tribute to their skill that, despite not being able to see their targets, half of their shots hit home. They did better than any Horde troopers would, Catra thought, proud of them; Rebel volunteers, each worth more than any individual Hordesman in combat.

The Troll, in particular, did well, the giant's wizardry sending rocky spikes into the field that were big enough they were almost guaranteed to hit _something_ , the wounded safe behind the vast warrior. Explosions and the howl of tortured metal rang out; the hunters had become the hunted, but they were no easy prey.

Still, they were surrounded, and while the bots were no better shots than they had ever been- were worse, given their rickety software and the clumsy hands of their current makers- the sheer weight of numbers and density of fire was almost overwhelming. The Whispering Woods' trees were tough, but not invincible, and their cover was being whittled away shot by shot, even as stray bolts began to get lucky and find flesh. Grunts and screams of pain echoed as searing lasers burned flesh and cut holes in skin.

In the middle of all this, guarded by her sister's shield and buffeted by Catra's yelling as she tried to draw fire to herself, Glimmer drew gleaming symbols in the air, twice erasing mistakes in her runes. Casting in combat was a lot harder, adrenaline made it easy to forget what went where, what runes you needed, hell, what the runes even _looked_ like... and it didn't help she was modifying the spell. Make _tell the truth_ into _show the truth_ , that didn't sound that hard, but any mistake would collapse the whole spell into nothing...

...She _hoped_ these were the right runes.

“ Here goes nothing,” Glimmer said, firing it off over Catra's shoulder as she blocked laser shots. The runes washed over a seemingly empty area from which laser fire poured; the spells' runes left a beautiful, sparkling trail behind them in the air that did... nothing.

“ Shit,” Glimmer said. “ Didn't work.”

“ I don't know about that,” Bow said, nocking an arrow. “ Look.”

The glitter that had followed her runes had settled... and it was moving. Bow loosed an arrow into a mass of gleaming particles; an explosion followed as the arrow's metal tip penetrated robotic shell.

The glitter wasn't moving- the bots it had covered were.

“ Glimmer, you're a genius!” Catra said, the shield in her hands becoming the Sword once more. “ Do that everywhere, and we can get this _done_!”

The spell wasn't perfect; it didn't undo the invisibility or reveal them... but it _did_ add a dazzling, glittery outline to them, just visible enough in the sunlight to let arrows and javelins and slingstones do their work. Glimmer began teleporting, the spell easier and faster to cast now that she had the gist of it, throwing it everywhere and revealing their enemies to them; with targets suddenly visible, the Rebel forces redoubled their assault, and now for every wounded Rebel, ten bots died.

“ We're doing it!” came the yell from one of her soldiers. “ We're pushing them back!”

“ Damn right we are!” Netossa said, blasting a bot. “ That's one, I can see them so we can start counting again now!”

“ Are-you-still-on-about-that?!?” Flutterina yelled at her in frustrated fury. “ Focus!”

But even as the war on the unseen tipped in their favor, more bots appeared- entirely visible bots, each with a bright rune drawn on them that Catra couldn't read but that Glimmer, apparently, could.

“ Burst apart into flame?” she said as the new arrivals began to charge. “ I don't like that. Her runework's sloppy, though, it's almost illegible.”

“ Please judge Adora's spellcraft grammar later,” Catra said. “ Everybody, I bet those are the exploding ones Flutterina mentioned! Don't let them get too close!”

A desperate ranged fight ensued; with less need to draw fire now that most of the bots were gone, Catra resorted to grabbing up big, heavy rocks and hurling them with She-Ra's enhanced strength. Each robot she hit burst into a terrific explosion of flame, and that made the Rebels even more determined not to let them get close; they sprinted forward, a literal suicide run as they tried to get close before detonating. Spinnerella had to stop attacking, her wind gusts were just feeding the flames and making them spread faster.

And the fire did _not_ need to spread faster. Behind the new exploding bots, what appeared to be a solid _wall_ of fire was rising as the Woods burned. Hordesmen, in suits of armor made out of two standard Horde Uniforms haphazardly welded together, could be glimpsed in between the roaring flames, with strange dragonlike devices in their hands, which did indeed breathe fire; they threw the flame _everywhere_ , their slow, solemn advance certain as an executioner's axe falling.

Trees centuries-old went up in flames in mere minutes, shrubs and bushes became small blazing torches, and the ground itself was a lake of fire, small grasses rendered to ash and dust and the very dirt itself boiling; the Hordesmen spreading these flames, in the bright red glow, looked like demons from hell. The bright glowing rune on their chests didn't help, a hot red thing.

“ Any idea what that rune is?” Catra asked as she hurled more rocks. There weren't many bots left now, but that fire looked to be a bigger problem than mere mechanical monsters.

Glimmer squinted, but shook her head after a moment.

“ No, between Adora's apparently atrocious runic handwriting and the fire, I can't make it out,” the mage trainee said. “ Looks kinda like the rune for fire, but it's got some extra stuff with it. Best I can do.”

“ That's-a-lot-of-fire!” Flutterina said, observing the forest fire as it steadily encroached on them from all sides. “ Any-ideas-on-how-we'll-escape?”

“ You won't,” Kyle said, chuckling. In the chaos, Catra had plain forgotten about him; he was leaning up on the side of the truck. “ You'll burn, traitor, you and all your rebel friends.”

“ Kyle, you'll bake with the rest of us,” Catra said. “ You got any way to tell your men to knock it off?”

Kyle snickered at her, the little shit.

“ Our suits are immune to flame, actually,” Kyle said. “ More of Adora's work. She's done well since she became Lord of the Horde... and that's my cue!”

He took off at a run, zigzagging and managing to stumble only once as he escaped. He ran into the fire, and despite lacking a helmet, his armor protected him; the red glow washed over him, and the fire left him unhurt, the unseen rune on his chest activating as the fire touched him.

“ Do we grab him?” Netossa asked.

“ No, we got bigger problems,” Catra said, looking around. Had to be a way out...

“ Yeah, fire's trouble for a lot of princesses,” Netossa said. “ For people, too. Fire's pretty good, it works on just about everything except Mermista.”

“ Shame she ain't here,” Bow said. “ Be useful right about now.”

“ I can teleport some people,” Glimmer said, “ but not many...”

“ If we had a platform or something, I could lift it, and carry people out that way,” Spinnerella said.

Catra's eyes landed on the truck.

“ I have a better idea,” Catra said. “ I've got a way to clear a path through the fire. We'll have to rush it as soon as I do, because the fire will be back- anybody got a way to shield us from the heat? It won't clear much of a space.”

“ Nets work as shields if I need them to,” Netossa said. “ It's pretty good against fire, too; my nets are light, and fire's related, so the two have trouble fighting each other. It's not perfect, but it'll work.”

“ Good, you're on that then,” Catra told the Princess of Sealing Light. Turning to Netossa's wife, Catra said, “ Hey, Spinnerella! Can you suck all the air _away_ from the fire?”

“ I'm better at generating it,” she admitted, “ but I'll give it a go.”

Catra headed over to the truck. “ I need everybody to grab the wounded- many as you can carry. Get everybody out of the truck.”

“ How come?” Bow asked, even as he slipped a hand underneath a nearly-crippled satyr whose legs were mostly laser burns.

“ Because I'm going to throw the truck at the Horde,” Catra said. “ The truck'll flatten the flames out, take out any Hordesmen behind the fire, and clear us a path to run for it.”

“ If you're gonna do that,” Bow said, pointing in one direction with his free hand,“ aim _that_ way. It's a direct shot to our temporary camp, and we can grab our stuff as we run.”

“ Good idea,” Catra said, as she got in position. “ Netossa, the second this truck hits, throw a shield over the sides, keep the fire back! Spinnerella, deaden the fire as much as you can- and everybody else, make a run for it!”

“ Can't the Horde guys hear our plan?” Flutterina asked, hopping from one leg to another as she prepared to run.

“ Not past the roar of their own fire,” Bow said, wiping sweat from his brow.

Catra knelt, advice from Horde cadet training ringing in her ears- _lift with her legs, not your back_.

She doubted this was what the instructor had in mind.

She put her hands under the truck's edge. C'mon, _lift_...

She dug into the ground before her magic compensated for the increased weight. Where her hands gripped, the metal dented, bent, until finally she hit some vital part of the frame and the truck stopped breaking apart in her hands.

Slowly, steadily, the truck began to lift.

“ _Come on,_ ” Catra snarled under her breath, ears slicked back, sweat pouring down her brow with effort. Up, up, _up_...

After an eternity, she stood with the truck in her hands, held over her head, an Etherian Atlas holding up the sky.

Her back ached, her shoulders hurt, even She-Ra's strength was beginning to strain; but she could do it.

With a feline roar, she hurled the truck at terrific velocity. It landed horizontal, spinning, bouncing, flattening trees and brush and stomping out the fire as it went. Hordesmen scattered with yelped screams, leaving an empty, flameless corridor out of the trap.

“ Shields up!” Netossa yelled as she threw nets to either side, each containing the burgeoning wildfire and cutting down on the heat radiating out of the blaze. “ Spinny, baby, do your thing!”

“ Here goes nothing,” Spinnerella said, the phrase getting quite a workout this day, gathering the winds to her with difficulty. It wasn't in wind's nature to be controlled, it wanted to be free; but at her touch, the winds relented, and withdrew themselves from the fires below. The heat relented, sucked away into her vortex, long trails of fire sipped up like Spinnerella had stuck straws in the blaze.

“ Go,” Catra said, staggering a bit. “ Go, run!”

The ambush squad poured out of the trees and ran for the gap, most cursing as they stepped on still-hot embers or tripped over burned but still present roots. One Hordesman recovered before the group was through- Kyle, of all people, who had apparently circled back around after he plunged into the fire. He raised one of the dragon-weapons and tried to light them up, but Glimmer teleported to him and slugged him out cold before he could aim at the fleeing militia, dropping him down into the ash and dust that was all that was left of this part of the Woods. Flutterina, in the lead of the group running down the safe corridor, paused to kick Kyle's prone form before continuing on.

“ Grab the weapon!” Bow yelled from behind them, as he practically carried the wounded satyr. “ I want to study it!”

Glimmer removed the harness from Kyle before they kept running, Catra stumbling in behind, muscles aching from hurling the truck. Sweat poured down her face; it was so _hot_ , even with Netossa shielding them and Spinnerella weakening the fires... one guy fell, and when he rose up, his arm was all burns, though he soldiered on, knowing reaching safety was more important than immediate treatment.

Catra ran alongside him, ready to grab him if he fell again. First Ones, this would have been easier with Swift Wind here, use their bond... but he was off scouting, trying to find any other Horde groups in the area.

“ C'mon, Netossa, Spinnerella! We're out!” Catra said, hobbling a bit as she reached the edge of the gap. Agh, she'd pulled something hurling that truck...

As the two princesses stopped their shields, one big hand came down behind her.

“ Need help?” the Troll chuffed, and Catra gratefully clambered up him, perching on his shoulder as the giant ran, long legs eating up the distance.

As the ambush squad escaped- to find out, later, that they hadn't lost anyone, though over sixty percent of them were wounded- Catra looked back at the Woods burning behind her.

_At least it won't be hard to figure out where the Horde is now,_ she thought, and shivered as she looked at a single fallen Horde flag the flame troopers had been carrying- and the great red dragon painted on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are curious about the Troll-
> 
> This isn't going to be a major focus of my fic, but I enjoy bringing in stuff from the old series. Everyone knows that the old, original series had its flaws, but it was in many ways quite advanced for its time, and if you enjoy a bit of cheese, it makes a fine snack. The music is also regularly surprisingly excellent, in an intensely 80s fashion.
> 
> Anyway, the Troll is from an excellent episode of the old series that was a lot of fun; they live in Spikeheart, and are generally shunned by Etherians. In this series, Trolls are a reclusive group with their own kingdom, having dealt with some racism from Etherians over the years; they are technically allied with the Princess Alliance, but generally keep to themselves in the northwest. A few end up joining Allied warbands, though, like the magic-wielding fellow here- and their propensity for bigness and magic is straight from the 80s series.
> 
> That's also where the species names come from; Twiggets were the race Madame Razz belonged to in the original series, so I decided it's her species here. It's also where the Magicat idea comes from, as well as their underground kingdom Halfmoon. Magicats still exist- Catra's species still exists- but they are kept under tight watch because of their penchant for rebelling. Halfmoon was a signatory to the original Princess Alliance, and actually has a runestone of its own- the Tiger Eye, which allows for shapeshifting- but was conquered before the Second Princess Alliance was revived at the Battle of Brightmoon.
> 
> As for the reference to Thunderians- you know what that's about. More to come!


	6. Catra, Princess of Brightmoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> War Councils, decisions... and Catra's love for Adora, tested.

**Catra, Princess of Brightmoon**

The war room of Brightmoon was tense, as the gathered strength of the Princess Alliance, the brains of the Great Rebellion, looked at a map of Etheria. Even Catra, who knew no grand strategy, could see that they were in a bad spot; the great red dragon of Lord Adora's Horde rose high in the southeast, and blackened areas represented parts of the Whispering Woods that had been torched down to the last shrub.

It had been only a few weeks since Catra's failed ambush, but it seemed that battle was just a prelude to this all-out war; Adora repeatedly caught them out, knew where they were going, where they were coming from, and even when she _wasn't_ catching them by surprise her troops continued the endless march, burning as they went.

“ How is the Horde still a thing when Hordak's _dead_?” Frosta growled, the thought everyone was thinking.

“ Lord Adora's apparently a total badass,” Glimmer snorted angrily, looking at the map.

The map agreed with her assessment. The Horde had not fallen; it had _expanded_. After the initial period of quiet following Hordak's death where it seemed the whole house of cards might collapse, someone had reshuffled the deck- the Horde was rejuvenated. The troopers seemed different now, less robotic, more... _fanatical._ Lord Adora had become a combination of battle cry and prayer; her soldiers marched, singing her praises, and giving her epithets like a cult leader. Last of the First Ones, Heir of Hordak, the Dragon...

The Princess Alliance had managed to push them back once or twice. But Lord Adora had an almost sixth sense for when they were coming; many ambushes were ambushed themselves, and the Great Rebellion, used to defeating superior Horde numbers with sneak attacks and surprise assaults, was being forced into the pitched battles it did so poorly in. The rebel forces were better at guerilla warfare and flanking assaults than they were in the literal fire-fights Adora was forcing them into, bloody and prolonged affairs that turned the landscape to ash and brought the Horde's biggest advantage- numbers- directly into play.

It didn't help that these new tactics were being supported by a different grand strategy. The Horde had stolen from the conquered territories before, but it had been a formal thing, and slow- taking resources back to the Fright Zone, where they would be redistributed. But now... now Horde forces just _took_ , they raided the locals as soon as they reached an area, and it was up to each Force Captain what they sent back home. It meant their supply lines were much smaller than they had been before, cannibalizing the local area for food, tech, and repair equipment; mostly they just sent stuff back to the Fright Zone to pay for fuel shipments for the flamethrowers they had grown so fond of.

Shorter, and less frequent, supply trains meant fewer things to attack for the rebels... and more Horde troopers available to guard each shipment, since there were fewer of them. The wave of bots never diminished, and now half the bots were walking firebombs and the other half were _invisible._ The Princess Alliance, which had just celebrated Hordak's death, was now suffering morale problems, as they realized that this would take more than just one last push... and the Horde was resurgent.

Frankly speaking, it was a bad situation all around.

“ She has a weakness,” Netossa said, frowning. “ Everyone and everything does.”

“ The only weakness we've found is water,” Angella said. “ But Mermista can't be everywhere at once.”

“ We've _talked_ about this,” Glimmer groaned. Catra wanted to pitch in, assist her mom and her sister, but she was always awkward at these meetings, since that very first one where Angella had put her in pride of place at her side; she was bad at grand strategy, for all her talent at tactics.

“ Where _is_ Mermista?” Scorpia asked, innocent face worried.

“ Recuperating,” Sea Hawk said. “ My dear sweetie is sleeping right now; I'm here as her representative.”

“ I did wonder why you were allowed to be in the room,” Frosta snarked.

“ You wound me, small and angry child!”

Catra ignored them as Sea Hawk and Frosta began arguing. Poor Mermista... her friend had been dragged around the entire Woods, fighting Adora's army... she hoped her dear, salty comrade was sleeping well. Salineas had been spared much of the worst of the fighting, at least, aside from a few would-be pirate raids; the Horde's “burn it all” strategy was not particularly viable at sea.

( Sea Hawk, as ever, remained the only person to use fire at sea regularly.)

“ Lord Adora can't possibly keep this up forever, though, right?” Scorpia said. Catra glanced at her, but her distracted mind couldn't provide her anything more than a vague warning... something up with the scorpion princess. Always had been, since day one, something she almost knew, but Adora's constant aggression meant Catra was in the woods most days, not here at home...

“ No, but Lord Adora is much like the fire she seems so fond of; she will do great harm before her embers burn out,” Angella said, shaking her head, and her words refocused Catra away from Scorpia.

( Mentally, Double Trouble sighed in relief. Catra was getting closer to the truth every day; if it wasn't for how tired she was, and how often out of the capital, she'd have caught the thief already, they were sure of it.)

“ Fire... a wild and dangerous thing,” Perfuma said, shaking her head. “ She reminds me of an old myth from Plumeria, of the Fire Princess of Mount Candila... not that such a thing was real, of course, but Lord Adora's fury is terribly reminiscent of it.”

“ She was real,” Glimmer said casually, focused on the map. “ Mom told me.”

“ I... what?” Perfuma asked, blinking as she looked between the daughter and the mother.

“ The Fire Princess was not a myth,” Angella confirmed. “ I was there. She was quite real.”

“ I... oh,” Perfuma said, blinking twice as one of her childhood nightmares was confirmed to be quite real. “ How... nice! Hehe... oooooh deaaaar......”

She trailed off, eyes wide, as she recalled everything her fathers had told her about the Fire Princess... and how she had a habit of getting bad little girls, and burning their flower gardens, a fate she had been _horrified_ by. Oh, how she'd _hated_ those stories! She'd had _nightmares!_

“ But that's neither here nor there,” Angella said, trying to refocus the discussion. “ The Fire Princess did what she did out of grief and foolishness; I'm not sure what drives Lord Adora.”

The words popped unbidden into Catra's skull.

( _I murdered a village; I've done... so many terrible things, Catra. I'm an insult, a freak, a monster, I'm evil... you can't just come here and tell me I'm a First One. Not... not now. I'm a monster, they'll never forgive me, I'm a First One and a beast and they'll never forgive me.)_

Catra knew the answer to that question- _guilt._

But Catra swallowed heavily against those thoughts, her mouth dry as the Crimson Waste, and could not work up enough willpower to speak before Perfuma opened her mouth again.

“ I'm... I'm sorry, I hate to be so focused on this, but... but I have to know. There was a real Fire Princess?” Perfuma said, voice going up a few registers into a kind of squeak even as she tried to stay calm.

“ Yes,” Angella said, repressing a sigh of annoyance at the continued distraction. “ She lost everything to her drive for more power... particularly when she found out that, while she'd been studying, the woman she loved had died. She... broke, in her grief, blaming her own drive for power... and deciding that, if she'd _already_ sacrificed the love of her life to her study, she might as well go for all of it. She was not in a good place, at the end.”

“ I... that is much more tragic than the stories I heard,” Perfuma said, quietly, trying to reconcile the power-hungry monster of her childhood fears with this grieving not-quite-widow.

Angella nodded. “ It _was_ a tragedy... for her, and her people. I believe history distorted the tale later, but that was what truly happened. She lost her love, then decided she had given up so much for power that she might as well go for all of it- and in hunting godhood, she and all her people died burning and screaming.”

( The idle thought flickers through Angella's mind, the same idle thought that has always haunted her when she ponders the Burned Kingdom's last moments- did the Fire Princess die with her people? Or, worse, did she _live_ , did her spell miss her, did she see the realm about her turned to ash, and end up starving to death alone in her melted tower? Was she ash, or were her bones laying lonely, either in the tower or at its base, if she decided to end it all swiftly? Angella has never wanted to wonder about that... but some part of her always has.)

“ First Ones forbid,” Perfuma said, shivering, and Spinnerella patted her shoulder.

“ But... that is neither here nor there. She did _terrible_ damage before she finally died, true... but die she did, and now it's not a problem anymore,” Angella said, still trying to get the conversation back on track. “ There hasn't been a Fire Princess for some time.”

“ Wait... if the Fire Princess was real, and not a cautionary tale about the dangers of ambition,” Bow began, “ What about her Runestone? The stories mention a Runestone...”

Angella despaired of ever getting the war meeting back in hand.

“ I've never heard a story where she did,” Glimmer said. “ She might have been a Princess like Spinnerella or Netossa, they don't have Runestones.”

“ All natural magic princess here, baby,” Netossa said, giving herself a chest pound.

“ That's right,” Spinnerella said, smiling at her wife.

“ Isn't all our magic all natural?” Perfuma pointed out, and was summarily ignored by the rest of the council.

“ Wait, if there's a Runestone, we could use it!” Swift Wind announced dramatically.

“ That's not a bad idea,” General Juliet said, rubbing the scar on her nose. “ If it's available, at the very least, we should put it under guard so the Horde doesn't get its hands on it.”

“ I'm all for that!” Glimmer said, before turning to her mother awkwardly. “ Err, if there _was_ a Runestone, anyway.”

“ There is,” Angella said. “ But it's dangerous. Something's... wrong with it.”

“ Wrong?” came Entrapta's voice from the robot she'd sent to represent her. It looked much like her Horde bots, save it was painted purple in honor of Dryll's heraldric colors- but that change didn't mean much to a group of people who'd spent three years fighting her Horde bots. Catra idly thought that Entrapta should have done anything to make them look different, but Entrapta, as always, was blind to the way others saw her actions. “ If it's wrong or broken, we can fix it... though I don't recall a Runestone connected to the network I used to attack Brightmoon.”

A moment's anger on Glimmer's face before she wrestled it back down. “ Wait- not connected to the network?”

“ No,” Entrapta announced. “ There are minor runestones on Etheria that are not part of the network the First Ones built, it must be one of those. Like the Tiger's Eye.”

“ Its power far exceeds those minor runestones,” Angella said. “ It is like one of the greater runestones in strength... but it is uncontrollable. What I suspect is going on with it- and I should point out that I only did a few minor calculations and research on the matter a few centuries ago, right after the Fire Princess' final spell obliterated her own people- is that it is artificial, not natural. The Spirit Ember is unstable... it repeatedly goes off, like a bomb that can repair itself, devastating the landscape around it. That's why, despite the land being terribly fertile due to Mount Candila's ashes, nothing grows there.”

“ An ever-burning land?” Sea Hawk said, eyes wide. “ _Magnificent..._ ”

“ Calm down, Captain Pyro,” Glimmer snarked. “ Mom says it's too dangerous... though that doesn't mean we can't at least keep it out of Adora's hands, she likes fire too damn much to start with.”

“ Agreed,” Perfuma said, “ agreed most heartily! I do not like their flamethrowers.”

“ Angella,” Entrapta said, voice tinny through the bot's transmission. “ You believe the Runestone to be artificial?”

Angella nodded. “ It's not an outgrowth of Etheria's magic, but something else. Maybe a First Ones experiment, or an accidental byproduct of one of their works. I resolved long ago not to touch the Spirit Ember. Too dangerous, too much potential for damage. Only one with nothing to lose- or a great deal of courage and stupidity both- would use such a stone.”

“ I wonder if I could replicate the effect,” Entrapta pondered.

“ Let's table that for now, then,” Bow said. “ I have to agree with Glimmer on this one; we can't use it, but I'd hate for Adora to get her hands on it. Can you imagine the damage she'd do with a Runestone, given what she's accomplished with sloppy runework and subpar tech?”

“ It'd be awful,” Scorpia agreed.

( On the inside, Double Trouble fought a grin. Oh, his boss was just gonna LOVE this... a Runestone? And of _fire,_ no less... What a _prize_ , to offer the Dragon.)

“ Shame we can't use it,” Netossa said. “ Fire's a great weapon to control, as the Horde's new Lord is proving. I mean, most Princesses are weak to it.”

“ Wait, you keep tabs on the weakness of your fellow _Princesses_?” General Juliet asked in surprise.

“ More than tabs, I keep notes!” Netossa said, and pulled out a notebook, reading from it quickly. “ And not just Princesses, though they are definitely the first ones I recorded. Spinny's got a weak ankle from twisting it, I'm vulnerable to my lovely wife, and both Frosta and Perfuma are really flammable.”

“ I... suppose?” Perfuma answered, and Frosta shrugged.

“ It's true,” the punchy princess admitted.

“ I'm not particularly flammable,” Glimmer pointed out.

“ No,” Netossa agreed. “ Your weakness is crippling self-doubt mixed with overwhelming hubris.”

“ Hey!” Glimmer, Angella and Catra responded at the same time, the family all sharing the exact same look of wounded dignity.

“ That's like, _really_ personal!” Glimmer said, a bit overwhelmed.

“ That was a bit much, Netossa,” Angella said in her daughter's defense.

“ What about you? You can't fight unless you can count your damn kills!” Catra retorted at her sister's attacker.

“ Without a kill count, how do I know I'm winning?!?” Netossa threw back.

“ Okay, let's- let's calm down, everyone,” Perfuma said. “ This has been, a _really_ emotional meeting, so- let's refocus. One deep breath, and then we think about the _Horde_ , and not various personal attacks or childhood nightmares that were apparently really sad!”

“ Seconded,” Frosta said.

“ Motion carried,” Angella said, putting a hand to her forehead. “ Let's talk about the Horde and what to do, not... other matters.”

As Angella finished placing her face into her palm, looking for wisdom there, everyone else took the suggested deep breath... except Netossa. Netossa stared at the map.. and her competitive mind had an idea. Horde forces were pushing forward everywhere along the borders... but that meant they had to be pulled from _somewhere._

The idea solidified, and she smirked.

“ I know what we need to do,” Netossa said.

“ Oh, this ought to be good,” Glimmer said quietly.

“ The Horde's spread thin, isn't it?” Netossa said. “ Look- Hordak never advanced this fast. And we know from scout reports that the Horde has fewer troopers than it did, though the bleed of deserters has slowed down to a trickle right before this latest assault.”

“ Yeah it's spread thin, but since they always know we're coming it doesn't matter,” General Juliet said. “ They have to have a spy in our ranks...”

“ It won't matter,” Netossa said. “ Not if we go in _fast_. The Horde's pushing all along the front. But the troopers fighting on the frontlines can't be _everywhere_ at once. She's betting everything on putting us to the sword, and she's thrown away her shield. We can't fight them where they are strong, so we go where they are weak.”

She tapped the Fright Zone on the map.

“ We go for a decapitating strike. We go for Lord Adora. We take the Dragon's head!”

Catra's eyes widened, her breath stopped, as her mind interpreted Netossa's words literally.

( Adora, her head falling from her shoulders, eyes wide-)

“ No!” Catra said, before she could stop herself, a strangled half-cry past all the things in her throat and her mind.

( Adora's headless body crumpling to the floor, blood on the edge of the Sword)

“ Why not?” Netossa snorted. “ You've invaded the Fright Zone _twice_ , and that was with Hordak keeping more forces at home! Unless Adora suddenly recruited an entire new army, these troops have to be coming from _somewhere_. If they're here on the frontline, then it follows that they _can't_ be at home. We blow past the assault and take out the leadership. The Horde falls apart without a commander.”

“ No,” Catra said, but her emotions strangled her, she didn't know what to say, how to convince them.

It was Entrapta who spoke next. “ Killing Hordak did not break the Horde,” she pointed out.

“ Because he apparently had Adora as a backup,” Netossa said. “ That's why they call her Hordak's Heir. But Adora probably doesn't even _have_ an heir yet, or if she does, she hasn't had the time to train them, I'd bet. Even if someone else takes over, it'll take time- and give us a reprieve.”

“ You can't kill Adora,” Catra finally said, almost cursing herself. Too simple, too honest, she wasn't making the arguments that would _work_ , they wouldn't _listen_ to her...

( Adora's head, eyes wide, one perfect, one ruined, looking at her from the floor)

Catra, the manipulator, the social expert, found herself flailing; right when she needed them the most, all her talents failed her, too wrapped up in the image of Adora, dead at her hands.

“ Catra, you... really shouldn't be allowed to make decisions relating to her,” Netossa said. “ Because _your_ weakness is Adora. Don't deny it! Your attachment to her is hurting you!”

“ Fuck you!” Catra said, as Netossa's words echoed in her head, and were joined by Light Hope's.

( _Let go._ The AI's advice on what to do with Adora... but she _couldn't..._ )

“ Yeah!” Glimmer said, joining in with her sister.

“ Catra!” Angella said, turning on her. “ Apologize to Netossa- and Netossa, apologize to my daughter, you're out of line.”

“ I'm saying what _someone_ has to say!” the light Princess answered. “ We all know Catra's feelings towards Adora! How many times has she had a chance to put an end to this, only to spare her?”

Catra's traitorous mind coughed up a dozen instances over the last three years; Adora, beaten at Brightmoon, Adora inside the mirror world, Adora, after the portal. Her Adora, but she... she _couldn't_...

“ Catra has served Brightmoon with the greatest distinction,” Angella said. “ My trust in her is absolute.”

“ But am I wrong, Angella?” Netossa asked. “ Tell me my plan is a bad idea.”

Catra turned her dual-colored eyes to her mother, hoping against hope she'd have _something_ to say... but Catra's heart fell alongside Angella's face.

“ I... concede your point, Netossa,” Angella said.

“ My Queen?” Catra said, and Angella's eyes were sad as she turned to her.

“ I'm sorry, Catra,” Angella said. “ But... striking at Adora... we can't keep fighting in the Woods. It's not working.”

“ You can't,” Catra said, her sense still fleeing her, her mind still full of...

(the wet _smack_ of her bloody corpse hitting the ground, the pain in her eyes)

“ You don't understand,” Catra said quietly. “ Adora was... Adora saved me. She _protected_ me.”

“ She ain't saving the rest of us!” Frosta said. “ I approve of Netossa's plan!”

Perfuma wrung her hands, and was silent for a few long moments.

“ I... I'm sorry, Catra, I understand you've always valued your former relationship with Adora, despite... everything that's happened since... but the fires are getting closer to Plumeria every day. I have my people to think of. I must agree with Netossa,” Perfuma said.

“ Good! We'll get set up then,” Netossa said. “ We'll take out Adora within the week!”

Emotions welled up in Catra, so many emotions, so many sensations.

(the taste of stolen ration bars as children, the knife in her side at the Battle of Brightmoon, Adora's kiss in Mara's ship)

“ No,” Catra said, and realized, to her horror, that she was about to _cry_ , in front of all these people... and knowing that, she did the only thing she could.

She ran.

“ Catra!” Angella said, as she fled the room, to find somewhere private to weep.

( _Adora I love you_ )


	7. Daughters of the Queen, Catra and Glimmer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back!
> 
> Adding more chapters because I had to split a few of these. Hope ya'll enjoy this chapter! It has Catra, sadness, Glimmer, Mermista, and spores!
> 
> Also spiders.

**Daughters of the Queen, Catra and Glimmera**

Catra is _gone_.

She has fled, taking Swift Wind with her, going who knows where; Swift Wind, who had been in the council chamber when she fled, and had went after her. No one in the Alliance knows what Swift Wind said to the She-Ra, or vice versa; all that anyone knows is that, a few moments later, Catra was flying away on Swift Wind's back.

The entire Rebellion command at Brightmoon is in an uproar over the news. Everyone's yelling, everyone's shouting accusations back and forth about She-Ra running off like that. Glimmer is nearly ready to chuck Netossa through a window, Spinnerella is busy defending her wife, and Scorpia seems suddenly convinced that Catra is going to go to the Fright Zone and warn Adora of their impending attack, a vicious and traitorous thought that catches like wildfire in the minds of General Juliet and some of the soldiers.

Angella wants nothing more than to run after her daughter- and she noticed Catra calling her _queen_ , and that aches, it hurts in her chest- but she must stay, she must soothe tempers and fight these vicious rumors, defend her child.

But there are other options, and she decides to send Bow and Glimmer after Catra- her two best friends, one a sister, whom Angella believes can reach Catra, make her see reason. The Queen even thinks she knows where the second princess of Brightmoon ended up; her bearing indicated she was fleeing to Light Hope's castle in the northeast, not to Lord Adora's capital in the southeast, despite Scorpia's words.

It is in the middle of planning out this retrieval expedition that the Woods reveals itself to have the worst timing in history: a spore storm starts up, and it's not a small poisonous squall but a true storm of the century. Anyone who goes outside in that kind of weather will be burned to ash, as surely as if they were burned by the Dragon's new Horde and her flamethrowers.

No search operation can be mounted in such conditions; Rebel warcamps in the Woods pull out specially designed anti-spore canvases and huddle underneath them, hoping their protections hold out, Horde patrols in the woods resort to stealing the locals' anti-spore defenses, and said locals... said locals suffer the acidic burns, stripped by their invaders of their protections.

Worse, a storm of a more normal sort is approaching, too; not as bad as the spore storm, but bad enough, it will bring rain and lightning and wind with it, rendering the Woods even more hopelessly inhospitable. It won't even help with the spores; the damage they cause is chemical, and water does nothing to stop it.

Queen Angella, who leads a nation, can do nothing but stare helplessly out a window, her people battening down the hatches against the bright and deadly lights, hoping against hope her daughter isn't out in the death trap the Woods have become.

-

In Light Hope's Crystal Castle, Catra curled up on herself, hurt- not on the outside, for Swift Wind had gotten her inside the Castle before the spore storm started, but inside, in her soul.

Swift Wind, faithful companion, sat next to her. Light Hope had disappeared a few moments ago; Catra wasn't sure why, except that the Woods had turned into a hellish storm of _acid_ outside, what the hell? She'd heard about this from some of the Rebels, that the Woods occasionally did this, but she'd never seen it in three years.

What shit timing.

So, hugging her knees like a child, as the spores melted the world outside, it was just Catra, alone with her horse, who looked at her with a face full of worry.

“ Hey, you okay?” he asked.

She shook her head. Her mouth, usually her best weapon, stayed shut; this cat had her own tongue, she held onto it tight with fears for Adora and fears for her place in Angella's family and fears for every unspoken thing that had passed in her life.

In the face of that silence, Swift Wind tried again.

“ Look, I don't know... what all went on with you and Adora...” Swift Wind began, trying to talk about this thing that apparently was the _biggest_ thing in Catra, this thing so fundamental she'd fled Brightmoon at the idea of them killing Adora. “ I can't comprehend it, honestly. Three years now, and she's spent every waking second either trying to kill you or trying to kill someone you know, usually multiple someones. Sometimes me! Except for when she stops to _plan_ out how to kill you or someone you know. Or eat lunch, I guess. Do First Ones have to eat?”

Catra stayed silent, even as Swift Wind's words prodded her brain, made her _think_ , and try to put into words the formless emotions that drove her, invisible and powerful like hurricane force winds.

“ So I guess... I guess I just can't figure out why you love her so damn much. What'd she do, that three years of attempted homicide just... rolls off of your back like water on a duck? And seriously, that _does_ happen, I watched a duck in a rainstorm once just to make sure. I can't figure it out. Either the duck thing, or your love for her.”

“ Then why'd you help me run?” Catra croaked out, finally letting go of her own tongue, though she kept her face pressed against her knees.

( Her _useless_ tongue; what worth were her manipulations, if they couldn't save Adora when it counted?)

Swift Wind shrugged. “ You're my friend,” he said, quietly, and somehow that was what got through to Catra; the quiet in the bombastic alicorn's words. Vulnerable, small... _genuine._

She turned to see him, the alicorn as he was, not arrogant and silly, but here just as her friend. Her eyes were full of unshed tears; she was being vulnerable with him, too.

He recognized it himself, coughed and puffed up, resuming his booming tones, echoing loudly in the quiet of the darkened Crystal Castle, covering with volume both their moments of weakness. “ Also without you who would I have to use super special bond powers with?”

Catra found a smile somewhere inside herself to wear, just for him.

“ Thank you,” she said, and he simply shrugged. Other words clawed at her throat- this... this felt like treason, or treachery, or... or _something_ bad, something wrong, even as she knew she could have done nothing else, and she had dragged Swift Wind along with her, made him accomplice to... whatever crime this was.

Hmph. She turned back to her knees, pressed her face back into cooling darkness as she thought. Some fine manipulator she turned out to be; the one time in her life her words really _mattered_ and she couldn't save Adora with them... could only panic, hurt, no one had ever suggested just... _killing_ Adora before...

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream at Netossa and all the other Princesses until they _stopped._ She wanted Adora to quit all this, come home, come to her, so she could save her life.

...And she wanted to apologize to Swift Wind, for dragging him into all this. But that last part, though it was the least, was still impossible; the words stuck in her throat.

She didn't apologize. Not for any of the _really_ bad things she did. When she was little, she'd sworn to Adora she'd never say she was sorry; she'd cut Lonnie, sheer jealousy that Adora paid attention to her...

That memory stuck with her; cutting Lonnie, just because Adora had focused on her more than Catra, just for a second.

...She'd been in love with Adora all her life. _How have I not seen this before?_ Catra wondered. She knew she loved Adora, but until just now, she hadn't realized how deep that well ran in her. She thought her desire for her was... newer, something born as they both reached maturity, but even in childhood... at least on her side... there had always been... love.

Cutting Lonnie... that was jealousy, expressed by a child's mind with a child's deeds. She'd been in love with Adora all her days...

Knowing this, knowing how long she has loved her... how was Catra supposed to deal with her _dying?_ Netossa had a point. Catra _hated_ her for it, she was almost blind with rage against the Princess for daring to say it, but she had a point.

...Maybe she can capture Adora. Maybe... Maybe she can do something else. The gears creak, they don't want to work, her emotions threaten to strangle her... but she has loved Adora all her life. Adora _needs_ her to do this.

...She should start with Swift Wind. If she can convince him...

She lifted her head up, looked at her companion in the darkness of the powerless Crystal Castle.

“ I have to save Adora,” Catra said. “ She's saved my life before.”

“ Trying to kill you negates that,” Swift Wind opined. “ I mean, maybe it gives her like, one free go at you? But she's taken a lot more than just _one_ go at you.”

“ You don't understand,” Catra said heatedly, before deliberately calming herself. No, _focus_ , this is important, you can't fuck this up. _Adora needs you._ “ I... sorry. My childhood... Shadow Weaver...”

Her jaw clenched. She didn't want to admit this, this ugliness, this terrible thing inside her, she felt... _ashamed_ , as if it were her fault, somehow, that all she has suffered was due to some flaw inside herself. As if she deserved it.

... _But that was what Shadow Weaver told me,_ Catra reminded herself. _Mom- Angella, she doesn't think that of me._

She focused on memories of the Queen, the gentle moonlight of her regard.

( She called her Queen before she left; she hopes Angella did not notice. She hopes she has not pissed away all her happiness in a moment's panic; she hopes Angella will still let her call her _Mom_ when she returns. Fear that she won't rises in her, strong as her terror for Adora, choking, but she pushes past it, she _has_ to push past it... but still it tears at her, in the back of her mind, the idea that Angella will reject her, that Catra has ruined her happiness with her own hands.)

“ Shadow Weaver tried to kill me as a child,” Catra finally managed to stutter out, spitting the tumor out of her heart. “ Multiple times. She raised me and she tried to kill me. She held me with her magic and she _hurt_ me, Swift Wind, she hurt me until I would die, and only Adora's interventions saved my life.”

(  _ I'm alive because Adora protected me; she didn't do it perfectly and sometimes she didn't do it well but she tried, and nobody else ever  _ **_tried_ ** _ before _ )

Swift Wind's jaw moved, opened, shut, and he blinked twice.

“ I... I knew it had to be bad...” he finally said, shaking his head. “ But... she tried to kill you? You were a child...”

“ She tried to kill me more than once,” Catra said, and could not keep out the snarling hiss in her voice. “ She viewed me as Adora's pet. Not as her daughter. So she tried to euthanize me.”

Swift Wind shook his head, the normally bombastic stallion's mood so dampened by this news that he could only be quiet, and somber. “ Catra... I never knew... I... I knew you hated her, through our bond I could feel how _scared_ of her you were, but...”

Catra shrugged. “ It is what it is. I owe Adora everything, because without her, I'd be a corpse.”

( They said cats have nine lives; Catras knows that, however many lives she has, she has them only because of Adora, she gained another one every time Adora stood between her and Shadow Weaver.)

Swift Wind shook his head. “ Man, you lucked out with Angella's adoption, huh?”

Catra chuckled mirthlessly. “ If... if I'm still her daughter after all this.”

“ You are,” Swift Wind said. “ She puts up with worse from Glimmer. Comparatively speaking, I'm pretty sure you're the good daughter.”

Catra did not remind Swift Wind that Glimmer had the advantage of being Angella's _real_ daughter, her mind looking at her adopted status and wondering if it was lesser, more fragile, if Angella, perhaps, would hold her to be less than her own true blood.

( Swift Wind sensed it down their bond but, showing wisdom, said nothing, though in his heart, less riddled with self-doubt, he thought that Angella would not let his partner down. And if she did, he'd kick her, Queen or not.)

“ Regardless,” Catra said, pushing that aside with an effort that cost her more than she cared to admit, “ We need to get back; I... I have to convince them to spare Adora. It's all the same if she's captured, right? Captured, not killed.”

Swift Wind looked at her, and sighed. “ Gonna be a hard sell...”

“ I have to try,” Catra said.

Then Light Hope kicked back on along with all the lights, scaring the crap out of the two.

“ Oh! Sorry!” the hologram said, but she seemed... nicer? “ I do love visitors! Though I don't think I've met you before.”

Catra and Swift Wind exchanged looks as the hologram smiled at them.

(101010101010101001FRIENDSOFMARA10101010101010010101010)

-

Sitting in the castle didn't sit well with Glimmer.

She was _supposed_ to be out there, retrieving her sister... but her mom had said no. She'd almost argued with her, before reminding herself that she was trying to be more accommodating... and admitting to herself that, repairing their frayed relationship or not, Angella was _right_. The spores alone would make going into the Woods a dicey proposition; with a storm of a more normal kind coming through, too, it'd be impossible to find her.

So there was nothing to do but sit in the castle, listening as the spores sizzled against the shutters, waiting for the greater storm to start. Glimmer, realizing she was getting angry, had told Bow she wanted to be alone for a bit. He deserved better company than an angry, glittery punchmonger.

In fact, punchmongering sounded pretty good right now, even if Glimmer was almost certain it wasn't a word- but you could be a warmonger, she'd heard Hordak and, more recently, Adora both called that, so clearly you could monger things. Why not punches?

So Glimmer was in the barracks, slugging a bag. She'd used to do this in private- she'd secretly installed one in her room with Bow's help- but her mom had recently told her she could use the barracks, like anyone else, aware that her daughter had avoided them because of the Queen's disapproval of her daughter's soldiering.

It felt... nice, to be doing this, here. Glimmer gave the bag a hard haymaker. Felt good. Her mom still didn't understand the urge to be a soldier, but she was being as supportive as she could be, and... well, hell, what more did you want out of a parent? They couldn't give you _everything,_ they were people too.

This wasn't so bad.

Halfway through her routine, an unexpected guest stepped into the room.

“ Hey Glimmer,” Mermista said. “ The castle's in chaos. Why are soldiers talking about She-Ra abandoning us and going on about doom and gloom? Makes it hard to sleep.”

Glimmer exhaled a long breath. “ Hey Mermista. Scorpia said something stupid at the council- Catra ran off when we started talking about killing Adora. Netossa wants to go straight for Adora.”

Mermista nodded. “ Okay, yeah, I can see how Catra might react poorly to that. Kind of in love with her, though I'm not sure anyone told Catra. Or Adora. Might be able to end the war with a kiss if we could get them in the same room for ten minutes.”

Glimmer couldn't tell if Mermista was being sarcastic or not, given her usual monotone, and decided not to ask.

“ Yeah,” Glimmer said. “ Wish Scorpia hadn't suggested Catra would betray us though. That's just stupid.”

“ Yeah...” Mermista said. “ Kinda weird for Scorpia to say that, though. Sort of... too smart.”

“ What are you suggesting?” Glimmer said, as Mermista's eyes hardened.

“ Something's up with Scorpia,” the waterlord said. “ And I intend to figure it out.”

Glimmer considered it a moment, then nodded.

“ I'm with ya, then,” she said. “ What's the plan?”

“ A plan... from my books!” Mermista suddenly bellowed, actual emotion in her voice as she raised a finger dramatically to the sky, which obligingly spit out a thunderbolt at just that moment.

“ I... wait, what, you're emoting, thunder, how?!?” Glimmer spluttered in disbelief.

“ I practice... at home!” Mermista said, once more posing before a roll of thunder hit.

( Control over water had all _kinds_ of applications... like sensing when a storm cloud was about to spit lightning.)

“ Okay,” Glimmer said, trying to recover from the dual shocks of drama and Mermista _actually having emotions,_ “ but... well, why the sudden urge to investigate? It's not like you to be so... energetic.”

“ Two things,” Mermista said, voice back to its low, even tone. “ Her fears about Catra sound a bit too intelligent for someone who was real sweet, but kind of dumb, and she spends a lot of time by herself. I'll be honest, that's not much to go on; maybe she's just a private person. Not like I knew her personally or anything.”

The water witch shrugged.

“ But Catra's my friend, and I'm not gonna let these accusations stand. That's what it boils down to. So let's see if Scorpia's hiding anything.”

-

It only takes a few moments to realize that, whatever “rebooting” is- and being around Bow for there years gives Catra half an idea what's going on- it represents an opportunity to get some info out of the tight-lipped AI.

Catra grins, cheered up. _This_ Light Hope is open, honest, and much less willing to lie to her. She doesn't know how long it'll last, but she'll take the opportunity now that it's here.

“ I must admit,” Light Hope said, “ I'm surprised the Sword would choose a Thundercat.”

“ Wait, what?” Catra asked. “ I'm a _what_? I thought I was a magicat.”

“ Etherians call your people Magicats,” Light Hope said. “ First Ones referred to them as Thundercats.”

“ Why the name change?” Catra asked. She kinda liked both, but it was weird to have  _two_ names for one species.

“ The First Ones named them after their homeworld. ” Light Hope told her. “ They fought with the First Ones, the one nation among the stars who was their equal... at least until the Human rebellions began.”

“ Wait, they  _fought_ the First Ones?” Catra said, surprised. Were her ancestors the villains here? She hated to even  _think_ it, but given all the great things the First Ones had done... Not to mention it added a horrible edge to her battles with Adora, made it feel almost...  _destined._

( How would the bards put it? The one good Thundercat against the one evil First One... yes, that sounded like fate, that sent chills up Catra's spine, just thinking of how it would be talked about in the future. The heroic demon and the evil angel, a motif that repeated down the years, she'd heard stories like that on many a singer's tongue.)

“ Indeed,” Light Hope said. “ They battled them amongst the stars... they came from a world whose name was unpronounceable to First One tongues. Translated, it meant “land of words like thunder.” Words Like Thunder is a direct translation of their word for laws and codes; they held those things important. From that translation came the name the First Ones adopted for it- Thundera.”

“ Thundera,” Catra said. “ That's where I'm from?”

“ Originally, though you would be a distant relation at this point; it has been a long time since Etheria was colonized by your people. You are one of several sentient species that are non-native to Etheria,” Light Hope said. “ First Ones, obviously... Humans originate from another world, as do the Lunoth. Fungalts- what you call Eirelanders- satyrs and lizardfolk are natives.”

“ How'd Magicats- err, Thundercats get here?” Catra asked.

“ A warship crashed while fighting the First Ones,” Light Hope said. “ Initial reports said all hands died with the ship, but later reports showed numerous survivors. They resided primarily in the area north of what is now known as the Fright Zone, attracted to the Tiger's Eye, whose energies resonated with them.”

“ Is that why they were called Magicats? They had magic?” Catra asked. Light Hope nodded.

“ Indeed.”

“ What kind of code did they follow? If they were big on oaths and stuff... what was their code?” she asked.

Light Hope glitched oddly, then said, “ Four words, in order of importance; Justice, Truth, Honor, Loyalty. The Code of Thundera, from which all their laws sprang. It was more than just a motto; it was their religion, the foundation of their spiritual beliefs.”

Justice, Truth, Honor, Loyalty.

“ That doesn't sound so bad,” Catra said quietly. Light Hope nodded.

“ They did not always follow it. No code is followed perfectly, no ideal ever translates to the real world perfectly... but many of them tried. It had many believers, and not just among their own people. Even the First Ones admired it, and the works that came from it.”

“ Why did they fight, then?” Catra asked.

Light Hope paused a moment, and her glitching stopped. “...That data cannot be found,” she admitted, in a curiously small voice.

“ Huh,” Swift Wind said. “ That's surprisingly convenient.”

“ Yeah,” Catra said, annoyed. “ What else do you remember?”

“ Oh, I remember how to make spiders!” Light Hope announced, far more cheerfully than that sentence warranted. “ Like this!”

Mechanical spiders popped up all around Catra, the same guardians she'd fought alongside Adora all those years ago.

“ Oh, come _on!_ ” Catra yelled, as Swift Wind got up and readied himself to start kicking. “ Why would you do this?”

“ You asked me what else I remembered!” Light Hope responded in total innocence as the first wave attacked Catra.

-

Rogelio, Kyle, and Lonnie stared out of their commander's tent at the raging storm outside. They were in no danger- they'd stolen anti-spore matting from the locals, and all the Horde troopers were covered- and enjoying a late supper.

“ Man, am I glad not to be in that,” Lonnie said, sipping her coffee and polishing off the last of her toast. She'd discovered a fondness for the bitter drink since Adora's orders to begin enjoying the fruits of their pillaging labors.

“ Same here,” Kyle said. He had a cup of milk in front of him, alongside a pile of weird, green things called a... salad, Lonnie had heard some of the locals say. “ Looks like shit.”

Rogelio, who was busy eating an entire pig alongside a solid gallon of green tea, grumbled acknowledgment from the back of the tent.

The trio just sat, enjoying themselves, as the storm continued on.


End file.
